Diamonds Are Forever
by ForeverPandora
Summary: Never in a million years had Hermione expected her life to turn out this way. In the time it takes to read three words, Hermione's life is given a whole new set of rules. Good job she's a quick learner. HG/SS, marriage law fic, rated M for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

**AN: yes, I know the marriage fic thing has pretty much been done to death, but I thought I'd give it a try anyways... please bear with me, it's as unique as any of the others... it's kind of vaguely book compliant if you ignore the epilogue and you don't mind a sneaky resurrection or two... I have rated this fic M to cover later chapters...please respect the ratings system...**

**Disclaimer: Alas, I am not JKR, therefore I don't own anything you recognise, and I am definitely not making any money from this.**

**Summary: **Never in a million years had Hermione expected her life to turn out this way. In the time it takes to read three words, Hermione' life is given a whole new set of rules. Good job she's a quick learner. HG/SS, marriage law fic, rated M for later chapters

**Chapter One**

Never in a million years had Hermione expected her life to turn out this way. She sat at the kitchen table staring at the letter Harry had written her, his handwriting slightly blotchy from his writing it and sending it so hurriedly. She was in trouble, big trouble. Finally, and with a heavy sigh, she pulled a blank piece of parchment towards her and wrote carefully,

_I'm sorry, Harry,_

_I can't do what you ask of me. Thank you for your concern all the same._

_Please give my love to Ginny and Lily,_

_Hermione._

The owl that had brought Harry's missive held out it's leg expectantly, it had clearly been told to wait for a reply. She attached it gently and opened the window for it to fly away, which it did immediately. Crossing the room once more she flicked the kettle on, a cup of tea would help her think.

Just as the kettle had boiled, and she was pouring the water into the cup, another owl swooped in through the open window. She took it reluctantly, and the owl, also having been told to wait for her reply settled itself onto the back of one of the pine chairs.

_Hermione,_

_Harry has just written me regarding the situation we will soon be finding ourselves in. He tells me he has written to you as well. I agree with him as to his suggestion, it seems to be the best course of action, there are not many pureblood families left since the trials and most f those that are aren't exactly the kind of people you'd ant to spend the rest of your life with._

_I know that I am not your equal in anyway, and that you hold no attraction for me, but I can offer you security, and freedom, and I will do my utmost to give you everything you desire._

_Hoping this letter finds you well,_

_Neville_

Hermione closed her eyes and groaned aloud. She needed time to think, and unfortunately, according to Harry, time was the one thing she didn't have. The law would be passed the next day, and anyone unmarried would be matched and paired off as the ministry saw fit.

She stirred a spoon of sugar into her tea. She knew Neville truly meant his promises, she also knew that he had always had something of a crush on her. It was, however, just as he himself said, they were not equal in, well, anything. Sure Neville had a big heart and was a lovely young man, but Hermione needed intelligence, a challenge, she needed someone she could spar with without worrying about hurting their feelings or having what she'd said be misunderstood. She needed someone who would give her peace and quiet whilst she worked, would respect her individuality. She needed someone she knew could look after themselves. Another sigh. Was she just being too picky? After all, Neville was also right that purebloods were very limited, and most of those had been part of Voldemort's regime. Perhaps she should just say yes and resign herself to the fates. She pulled another sheet of parchment towards her, she loaded the quill and addressed the letter, but then she stopped, she just couldn't make her hand move to write an acceptance of marriage to Neville, she just couldn't,

_Dearest Neville,_

_I thank you so much for your kind offer. I honestly believ that you will make a wonderful husband to some immensely lucky witch, but I regret that that witch cannot be me. I love you dearly, as I do Harry and Ron, and all the Weasley boys, as I would a brother._

_Please forgive me,_

_Hermione_

A single tear rolled down her cheek as she attached the scroll to the leg of the waiting bird. It didn't really matter, her life was in the hands of the fates whether she had married Neville or not. She could only hope that the ministry were kind in their matching.

-#x#-

The next morning, Hermione woke to find a ministry owl tapping at her window. This is it, she told herself, the very end of my life as I know it. She took the scroll to the kitchen with her, leaving it, still sealed, on the table whilst she ate a leisurely breakfast, trying everything to belay the moment she would have to read the confirmation of what she already knew. Finally, the moment could be put off no longer. She took the scroll in shaking hands and broke the seal, feeling the pulse of magic, confirming to the ministry that she had received and read the scroll.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_I am writing to you this morning to announce the latest of improvements your new ministry is making to your magical community. We are currently working to draw witches and wizards of all blood status' together in order to eliminate discrimination, we are also working to improve the numbers of the populace, which, as you may be aware, has been in steady decline for many years, not aided by recent turbulent events._

_In accordance with the above, we have, as of midnight this morning, begun to enforce a new law, this law shall hereafter be know as the Unity Law. This new law states that all Wizards or Witches of between the ages of 17 and 100 years are required to be engaged a suitable partner (see below for details as to acceptable partner choices) within one month of the date of this letter. are further required to complete the engagement with marriage and consummation within three months from the date of this letter._

_Wizards and witches whom can prove that their parents and grandparent are all of magical stock (commonly known as Purebloods) are required to marry a partner who is of non magical (commonly known as Muggle) ancestry _

_Wizards and witches whom can prove that they have at least one parent or grandparent who was of Muggle ancestry (commonly known as Half-Bloods) are required to marry a partner of equal blood status to themselves or else of non magical (commonly known as Muggle) ancestry._

_Wizards and witches whom can prove that their parents and grandparents are all of non-magical (commonly known as Muggle) ancestory (commonly known as Muggle Born) are required to marry a Partner of "pureblood" or "half blood" status (please note that in the event that more than one proposal is received, priority claim will be given to the suitor with the higher level of magical ancestry. For example, should a "pureblood" wizard and a "half blood" wizard both petition a "muggle born" witch, she will be obliged to accept the "pureblood" despite which order the proposals were made. Should two "half blood" wizards petition a "muggle Born" witch, the ministry will investigate how many "muggle" immediate relatives each wizard has and the witch will be obliged to marry the wizard with the least "muggle" relatives and therefore the nearest to ebing "pureblood"._

_As it is the ministry's wish that all of the magical community be as happy as possible in their marriages, much analysis of personality and intellect has been completed on your behalf by the ministry and a list of suitable matches will be arriving shortly. Pairings outside of this list will be ruled unacceptable by the ministry._

_If you require further information or assistance, please do not hesitate to contact the myself or any of my colleagues._

_Hoping You have a good day,_

_Bianca Monroe_

_Department of Magical Union_

Hermione took a deep steadying breath. Well, she didn't have anyone of Pureblood to petition for her, aside from Neville, and she would no sooner marry him than Horace Slughorn. All the Weasley boys were already married, and she was fairly certain that the few other purebloods she had known at school were also, that or they were currently spending a stretch in Azkaban. Harry hadn't told her that she wouldn't just be given a specific blood status to marry, but a list of actual names or people she was allowed to marry. For half a moment, Hermione wished she had accepted Neville after all. That is, until she reread the sentence about analysis or personality and intellect, at least who ever she was paried with would have something vaguely in common with her. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. There was nothing she could do anyway. She had cast aside her last lifeline of free will. She would just have to wait and see.

She didn't have to wait long. By 10am there was a green flash in her front room signalling that someone wished to contact her by floo. She spoke the password to allow them through and Harry stumbled out of her fireplace, closely followed by Ginny and Baby Lily (not that Baby Lily was truely a baby anymore, she was almost 2 years old.) Harry was holding a scroll with the ministry seal on it.

"I thought I'd better deliver these personally, 'Mione, you know, so we could be here to support you." Harry told her as he gave her a hug. Hermione just smiled her thanks and moved on to hug Ginny and take her god daughter into her arms.

"Come on into the kitchen," she invited them, adding quietly to Lily, "we'll see what Auntie Mione has in her biscuit tin, shall we?" the toddler squirmed in delight in her arms and gave a loud "ez peas!"

Soon they were all sat around her kitchen table, Lily covered in a sticky chocolaty mess from the half eaten kit-kat in her hand and the adults all holding steaming cups of tea.

"Open it, then!" said Ginny after about five minutes of companionable silence, bursting half with nerves and half with excitement. Hermione carefully broke the seal and once again felt that light shimmer of magic. To her surprise there was only one name on her list. She read it over and over again, just to make sure that her eyes were not playing tricks on her. No, there was no mistaking it. Without so much as a word, she pushed the scroll back across the table to harry, who picked it up and immediately had it snatched from him by Ginny.

"No way! Harry, there's got to be another way, she can't marry him! isn't there an appeal process or something? I thought this was meant to be a list of names; surely she must have other options! Harry, she can't marry him!" Harry raised his eyebrows and took the parchment gently back from his wife and read it for himself.

"I'm sorry, Mione, I guess you should have married Neville after all, though I completely understand why you wouldn't want to." He said gravely. Hermione, however, didn't hear him, she was busy compiling lists of all the possible reasons she could have been matched with Severus Snape, of all people.

-#x#-

Severus Snape had determinedly ignored the ministry owl that had been equally persistently rapping on the window of the study at his house at Spinners End. He wanted nothing to do with the ministry and their stupid ideas. He had continued to ignore it when a second owl had joined the first a couple of hours later. His book was interesting, his chair was comfortable, he had a steaming mug of coffee within easy reach and he saw no reason to let the dunderheads at the ministry interrupt his morning, no doubt they only wanted to ask him some impertinent question about his past, all over again.

He had survived the war just barely, mostly die to his downing pretty much every form of healing potion and antivenin in his personal (an extensive) stores just before they had arrived for the final battle. Beyond that Poppy Pomfrey had worked an outright miracle. Much to his (and everyone else's) surprise, mostly due to Minerva McGonagall and Dumbledore's portrait, the ministry had – reluctantly - cleared him of all charges, and given him an Order of Merlin, first class no less. Ironically he had craved an Order of Merlin since his school days, but now he had it, he found himself struggling to be anything other than indifferent. The medal itself currently resided at the bottom of his sock drawer.

Finally, Just as Severus had summoned to himself a sandwich for lunch, a third owl appeared, and this one was carrying more than just a letter, it had an enchantment that allowed it to fly directly through the window, causing it to spring open and therefore also admitting the other two owls. With a grunt and a scowl, Severus snatched the three scrolls each baring the ministry seal and veritably flung all three birds out of the now open window before slamming it shut and warding it strongly. The three letters he defiantly tossed into the fire. Bugger the ministry.

He returned his plate to the kitchen by hand rather than magic, feeling that he should leave his chair at some point today. He rinsed it beneath the tap and then set it on the side to be more thoroughly washed a little later. When he returned to his book, however, he found that the letters he had earlier burnt had glued themselves to the front of the book, and would not let him open said text until he had read them first. After attempting to remove them by every magical method he could think of, he resigned himself that he would indeed have to read whatever it was that the ministry seemed to think was so important. The first letter was notification of some law the ministry was now enforcing, utter garbage in his opinion it emitted a trace of magic when he broke the seal, obviously the ministry confirming that it had been read. The Second letter held only one name, that of the 'Golden Trio's brain, the know-it-all Hermione Granger. The third was a polite but forceful missive from the ministry informing him that they were aware he had not yet acknowledged their previous two letters and said letters were urgent so could he please do so.

His hand was half way to the fire again when the realisation hit him that the letters implied he was to marry His ex-student. He snatched them back, eyes wide with shock and horror, and scoured them for something he must have misread or misunderstood, then again, this time tracing every word looking for any exploitable loophole. There was absolutely no way he was marrying Hermione Bloody Know Everything In The World Ever Bloody Granger. "Oh, gods, no" he growled, suddenly feeling the need for a drink a lot stronger than coffee.

**AN: hope you liked the opening chapter, sorry it's a bit short. This is my first proper fanfic, so please be gentle if you're going to critic it – though any suggestions for improvement are gratefully received. I will hopefully have the next chapter up in the next couple of weeks (real life permitting). Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed (and those who asked for story alerts) you've all really made my day :) . Now, without further delay, onwards fanfic fans!**

**Disclaimer: I wish I was, but I'm not, and I never will be...you know what I mean...**

**Chapter Two**

The sun had barely risen over the misty city as one black clad figure stalked through the London streets. He could, of course, have apparated into the alleyway containing the phone booth that was the visitors entrance to the ministry, but he felt that a brisk walk through the cool morning air would clear his head of the last remnants of his headache- a parting gift from the entire large bottle of firewhiskey he had sunk the previous evening). A final turn and the ministry, or at least the wall pretending not to be the ministry, stood before him. taking a deep breath and summoning his most intimidating expression, Severus slammed open the door to the phone box as if it had personally wronged him on some level, satisfied with the sound it made as it rebounded back to close behind him. he then proceeded to punch the relevant numbers and growl at the infuriatingly cool female voice that questioned him.

Surely there had to be a way to make this infernal thing sink faster, one simply could not look suitable frightening when trapped in a gracefully descending box. Stomping across the newly remodelled atrium towards the plump wizard (he was pleased to note an ex-student of his, a Hufflepuff is he wasn't mistaken) sitting behind the security desk, Severus did not so much as glance at the fountain with it's 5 figures all smiling serenely.

"P-professor Snape, sir!" the wizard behind the desk squeaked, ah it was like being back in his labs at Hogwarts, there were certainly days when he missed all those terrified faces all both staring at him and trying not to look lest he deduct points or give them detention. From somewhere, the wizard before him seemed to pull enough courage to cease his stammering. "I am afraid I am required to weigh your wand." He said in a would be confident voice, "if you wouldn't mind just...handing... it..." he trailed off, once more faltering under the imperious stare of the bat of the dungeons. Severus raised an eyebrow. He had to admit that he did find his ex-students reaction to him amusing, but now he had more pressing things to attend to, like securing his freedom.

With only the slightest flick of his wrist, he produced his wand, his faithful friend, and handed it over to the wizard. Who took it almost reverently and placed it on the gold scales before him. "so that's-"

"The world need not know, Mr Benjamin. Thank you." he cut across the wizard in his usual curt manner. Looking shocked but not altogether surprised, Mr Benjamin simple nodded, speared the thin strip of parchment and handed back the wand. Severus returned it to his sleeve and marched off towards the lifts.

Exiting at the relevant floor, Severus found himself facing a wide reception desk, the blond witch behind it had what appeared to be a muggle telephone jammed between her ear and her shoulder and was saying things like "he never!" and "no!" or else, "oh my god, that's like so funny!" whenever the squeaking voice coming out of the receiver drew breath. She glanced up as the elevator doors parted and raised a finger to the newcomer as if to imply that she was very busy and would be with him in a moment, before resuming filing her nails, never missing a beat in her conversation.

Severus folded his arms across his chest. He didn't recognise this girl from Hogwarts, which was strange as she was easily young enough to have been at the school during the time of Harry Potter, no, repress the shudder, Severus, that's it, don't think of him... or her. After what was easily 10 minutes, and after Severus' look of mild impatience had transmuted into a full on scowl, the witch before him finally hung up the phone and turned a beaming smile one him, not so much as blinking when he failed to return it.

"Welcome to the Department of Magical Union" she bubbled, "my name is Tilley, and I am in charge of wedding dates. So, who's the lucky bride and which date would you like? I must say getting here early was a smart move, I expect there'll be a scrum any second." As she spoke she pulled a large shocking pink diary from her desk drawer.

"I wish to speak to your head of department." He stated in as calm a voice as he could manage.

"Have you already got a date set then? Lets have it and I'll look you up on the system, book you an appointment with B, Mr...er?" Why was she still smiling at him like that? And how was it she didn't know who he was? Everyone in the wizarding world knew who he was.

"Snape," he growled, "Severus Snape. Don't even bother opening that book." This time she did look a little surprised at least, and she did cease with the book half open. "Listen very carefully, as I do not enjoy repeating myself, I wish to speak to your head of department."

Tilley raised her eyebrows, smile now back in place, "well, Mr Severus Snape, to see our head of department, you need to make an appointment, and to make an appointment you need to be on the system. To get you on the system, I need a brides name and a wedding date. You got that, sweetie?" she told him in a firm but still bright voice. It took all of Severus' control not to explode at being called sweetie, let alone being addressed much in the manner someone might tell a three year old that it would have to wait until it got home to have some chocolate.

What pushed his restraint even further, if possible, was a small laugh from behind him. He spun around and came face to face with the one person he distinctly remembered declaring that he never wanted to lay eyes on again. His would be wife, Miss Hermione Granger. "Good morning, Severus." She said politely, a smile still pulling at her lips as she tried not to laugh.

"I do not believe I gave you leave to use my first name." He breathed in a deadly whisper. Hermione ignored him and passed him towards the desk.

""Welcome to the Department of Magical Union" The receptionist was off again, "my name is Tilley, and I am in charge of wedding dates. Can I take your name and your preferred date?"

Hermione smiled again, it was like they were feeding off each other, Severus looked on in disbelief. "Hermione Jean Granger, what's the last possible date you've got? It would seem my bridegroom is a little reluctant." Both girls giggled as if sharing some inside joke.

"Sure, honey, I can put you in at 3pm? Got yourself a commitment-phobe have you? Never mind, I'm sure he'll come round, beautiful thing like you. Who's the lucky fella?" the book was open and Tilley was running her wand down the page without even looking in that direction, still grinning at Hermione.

"He is." Hermione said nodding her head in Severus' direction. Tilley openly gasped and then burst out laughing. Severus' already raised eyebrows threatened to vanish into his hairline altogether.

"For real?" Tilley gasped as she finally brought herself back under control, "well, best of luck to you, I say. I mean, talk about rude. Still, I guess he just needs a strong woman like you to put him in his place." Severus refused to let his jaw drop. At no point did he need anyone to put him anywhere.

"Thank you." Hermione was clearly still fighting her own laughter. She opened her mouth as if to make further comment. But Severus, regaining the use of his stunned tongue, cut in.

"Now that my..._fianc__é__e_" he seemed to have trouble forcing the word out from between his lips, "has set the relevant date, may I please see your department head?" exasperated politeness dripping from every word as he placed both hands on the desk, making an effort to be even more menacing

"We." Hermione corrected him; she even had the audacity to turn her smile on him.

"What?" he glowered, not looking her except from the very corner of his eye.

"We. May _we_ please see your department head?" She said patiently. Once again, Severus Snape found himself being talked to like a toddler. Where was the fear? Maybe he truly had made a mistake in leaving off his billowing black teaching robes this morning.

"Fine. May _we_ please, see your department head? Now." Patience barely hanging on by a thread, Severus spoke every word through gritted teeth.

"Certainly." Tilley responded cheerfully. She pulled yet another bright pink diary from her desk and flicked to the relevant page. "I can squeeze you I to see B in just under an hour, is that okay?" she addressed Hermione, who returned another bright smile and nodded, deeming it to be perfect. "Great, if you'd both like to just step through that door to your right, you can wait together, in private." She said with what Severus was sure was a wink. Hermione giggled again and thanked the bubbly secretary.

"Come on then, Fiancé." Hermione said brightly, pulling an outright stunned Severus along by the hand through the door.

As soon as the door shut behind them Severus wrenched his hand away. "What in the name of Merlin do you think you are doing?" he spat. Hermione made her way over to one of the chairs that littered the room in groups of four around small tables covered in outdated copies of Witch Weekly, and the Daily Prophet.

"Oh, get over it." Hermione told him sternly, "You're not my teacher anymore, in fact your not even _a_ teacher anymore. You think you can just march in here and scare everyone into doing what you want them to, but I've got news for you, you can't. It won't work. I've seen the other side to you, as have so many others when the war finished, so we know you're not that big nasty monster you pretend to be. Maybe you need a new tactic, like being nice to people." Severus was glad that her words came from behind a copy of Witch Weekly from about 5 years ago, because his jaw actually had dropped that time. Hermione was glad she could deliver her speech from behind the relative safety of the pages, because she wasn't as sure as she sounded that he wasn't every bit as scary as he had been when he had been her teacher. She just thought maybe if she had to marry the guy, she'd better get over her fear and force him to at least pretend to respect her.

"I see no evidence that being nice to anyone will get me anywhere." he finally ground out.

"Yuhuh, because ranting and raving got you into his room, and me asking nicely and going along with their protocol caused us to still be out there." In her mind, Hermione did a small victory dance into the stunned silence. She heard a chair at the same table as her own creak as someone sank into it and then the familiar sound of a newspaper being opened. She chanced a glance from behind her own magazine, his eyes weren't moving across the page and his jaw was clenched so tight she thought he might do himself an injury.

About five minutes later, Hermione could stand the frigid silence no more. She decided that it was time for drastic measures; she would offer him an olive branch. "It says here that there is much evidence to suggest that lacewig flies can be replaced with wax worms when making polyjuice potion to almost double the potions effective life. Is that true?" she asked in an innocent tone of pure interest. It said no such thing, she just guessed that in his standing as the youngest ever potions master and the holder of the record for Hogwarts highest NEWT potions score, he would feel outraged enough to shatter the theory into smithereens. She guessed right.

"What utter rot. Adding wax worms to a potion as volatile as polyjuice would at best cause it to explode and thus eradicate which ever misguided dunderhead was idiot enough to try it and at worst cause it to transmute into a powerful poison." He had answered on autopilot, slamming down his paper in the process. Oh well, he had said it now, he couldn't very well just take it back, could he.

"Then perhaps this hypothetical dunderhead would have thought to add a bezoar derivative as well as a little essence of arnica to counteract the more poisonous properties."

In his head Severus worked the calculations, "no." He said finally, "a bezoar derivative would have no effect. The hypothetical dunderhead, as you put it, would have to compound a proper antidote to the poison he had unwittingly made, and also find a more apt replacement for the lacewig flies as wax worms alone would not be enough to substitute their magical value." He paused in thought for a moment, "perhaps it would be possible if you were to soak winter thyme in essence of bergamot, then add it gradually to the mixture, but no, that would then counteract the boomslang skin, so you'd have to..." he trailed off, suddenly suspicious, "Miss Granger, why would there be an article on a potion that is not only wholly useless in day to day life, as well as being extremely difficult to brew, in Witch Weekly magazine?"

"Do you think it's all that difficult to brew, then?" She asked, skirting around the question.

"I would not expect anyone below Sixth year to be able to brew it to an even mediocre standard. Why are you avoiding my question?" he was staring at her now, looking straight into her eyes, she felt her response catch in her throat, and then before she could stop herself:

"I brewed it in my second year." She saw a glimmer of triumph in his eyes dark depths before all was locked away again. Her hands flew over her mouth as if she could force the words somehow to go back in.

"I know," he said with a slightly malicious sneer, but there was something else in his voice too, almost, dare she think it, pride? That one of his students could pull of such a feat, surely not. "Who do you think had to brew the antidote for your little cross species sojourn?" Hermione blushed just slightly, she hadn't thought of that. It should have been obvious, who else at Hogwarts would have had the knowledge but their much feared potions professor.

After a short pause, just long enough for the silence to slip back into he uncomfortable, but not long enough for Severus to have returned to his paper, Hermione once again found herself speaking. "What made you stop teaching? I mean, Luna says that the guy who's there now doesn't have a patch on you. She says he teaches stuff you taught us in our third year as OWL." It came out in a bit of a rush, and she found herself blushing again as he surveyed her, almost as if summing up whether to answer, or how much to tell her.

"I had no great desire to return to Hogwarts, Miss Granger." He confessed slowly, as if he weighed each word before he spoke it. "No great want to be confronted and reminded everyday of all the wounds I have caused. As it happens, it scarcely mattered where I go, I should have learnt long ago that you cannot escape the past by simply walking away." His voice seemed almost sad to Hermione, who was completely caught off guard by his admonition, she had thought he was going to refuse to answer her.

"You're right. You can't just walk away from the past. No one can. But with the help of a few good friends, it can become an easier burden to bear." She said softly, thinking of her parents, whom she had never been able to find in Australia. She had mourned them as they had died, and deep in her heart she thought herself their killer, because it had been she who had taken them out of themselves, who had played god with their consciousness.

"Bloody Gryffindor sentimentality." Severus hissed, making Hermione jump in his sudden anger. "Be friends with the world and it's wife if you could, wouldn't you. Oh, share the load, help each other" he mocked, "lay down your life at the alter of friendship. Pah, your morals wouldn't last a second in the real world. You're but a child, you can never understand."

"of course, "she rejoined, "it's better to go through everything alone, isn't it, better to hurt those around you, even those who offer you friendship, than to let even the possibility of them hurting you through your steely defences. Friendship won the war. Friendship, loyalty and courage."

"Friendship? Loyalty! Courage?" his voice rising with every word, "no, my poor misguided Gryffindor, secrets won the war. Lies won the war. Ultimately betrayal won the war. Oh I speak not of my betrayal of the dark lord, I am not yet that egotistical to presume that I won the war singlehanded, no. I talk of Dumbledore and his foolish plots, and yet here he stands, a hero, they call him; him and all the idiots who followed him, willingly blind to his greater good."

"And yet you stood amongst those idiots. You worked with them, and you too followed blindly Dumbledore's plan. And why, because you trusted him, we all trusted him, and we were rewarded for our trust with victory." Her own voice matched his, surprising herself with the force of her words. "You can't deny that. We all worked together, though we may not have known it, we all pushed through as friends."

"Oh I see, of course, you imagined yourself to be my friend did you, after I killed Dumbledore? And Minerva, when I was letting the Carrows torture students, Minerva was being my friend was she by disrupting my pans at every turn? When she and the other interfering order members tried at every turn to kill me off, that was friendship was it? And on the other hand, when the Malfoy's offered me shelter when no one else would, that I suppose was not friendship, because they were no on our side, and so how could they show anything akin to what the right and noble Gryffindors feel? No, obviously, when Dolohov healed my wounds, because Poppy turned me away, he was doing it out of spite, that could not be friendship." His rant left him breathing heavily and on his feet, he didn't remember rising to tower over her, nor did he remember beginning to pace.

"I didn't say that the other side had no Gryffindor qualities. Quite the contrary, I believe that everyone has some of each houses qualities, no one can be 100% brave, or 100% cunning. Do you know, I think I might quite enjoy being married to you, obviously someone needs to show you that not everything in life is black and white, or more, red and green." She told him calmly.

"Miss Granger, I have no intention of marrying you." he told her abruptly. "In fact, It can safely be said that I would rather snap my wand right now, sign over my account to the goblins and live out the rest of my days as a one of the muggle homeless than marry you."

With that he stormed out of the waiting area, ignoring Tilley on reception who gave him a cheerful "Thank you for visiting, see you again soon." In less than five minutes he had flung his visitors badge back at the wizard on the security desk and marched out into the murky morning light of muggle London. Needing to somehow release some of his rage he promptly kicked the dustbin next to the phone booth and was rewarded with a cracking sound and a stab of pain as one of his toes snapped.

Meanwhile, up in the waiting room, Hermione sat in stunned silence, staring at the door Severus had just exited through.

"Did I hear Mr Snape leaving?" A kindly voice asked from the door on the far wall. In the doorway stood a short witch with tightly curled black hair and light grey eyes. "My name is Bianca, I am head of this department," she offered her hand out to Hermione, who shook it, still slightly dazed. "Tilley tells me that your future husband would like an urgent work with me, and that you are going to accompany him?"

"Apparently, he's not my future husband." Hermione told her in a far away voice more commonly associated with Luna Lovegood. "Apparently, he's going to become a muggle instead."

"I see." Bianca commented slowly, "well, in that case, perhaps you'd like to come into my office for a cup of tea and we can talk over your options." Hermione nodded a little numbly and soon found herself being guided into another comfortable chair and a hot cup of tea being pushed gently into her hands. "Now, lets see what we've got." Bianca rummaged for a moment in a filing cabinet behind her desk before pulling out a rather thick file. She opened it and began flicking through. "Oh yes, I remember. Yours was a special case. You see when we first started the matching process; we looked at NEWT scores to determine which subjects people had been most interested in and indeed, which they had done best in. Potions gave us a very small selection, about 12 people of either gender. We then used the IT - that's Interest Tracker – don't worry, everyone has one, it's just a way the ministry keeps an eye on who has an interest in things like magical animals that might be under strict bans and other more serious dark arts. It's not 100% accurate of course, like anything it can be hoodwinked. Anyway, that narrowed our list even further. Everyone was given a compatibility percentage and yourself and Severus Snape were the closest match we were given. You were also the only two people to be given only one match each. "

Hermione sipped her tea. "But if we only have one match each, what happens now?" It didn't really matter, she was determined; she would marry Severus Snape, even if only to prove that Gryffindors and Slytherins could get along.

"Well, dear, that all depends on how serious Mr Snape was with his threat to leave the wizarding world. I know that he's a half-blood so must have some degree of knowledge of the workings of the muggle world, but it also says here that he has spent next to no time in the muggle world since his 11th birthday, so I'd say it's not a place he wants to go now. If, however, he does choose to become a muggle, his wand will be snapped, his gold for the majority, confiscated, as is wizarding custom for those who have been banished. Then, you, I'm afraid will be faced with either joining him there or else being repeatedly retested until another match is found for you. I should warn you, Hermione, may I call you by your first name? That those you are tested against will include anyone unmarried at the time, including those currently serving in Azkaban, but who are to be released, or are at least allowed conjugal visits."

"Thank you for that information." Hermione said politely, "I'm sure that Severus won't make good on his threat. He's an intelligent man, after all, and besides, I'm certain I can persuade him." her mind already planning out her attack, she once again thanked Bianca, for the tea this time, and was off. She needed to find someone to help her with her plan, and there was only one woman for that job – Ginny Potter.

**AN: Well that concludes chapter two. Hope your still enjoying it. As always, any pointers gratefully received (I'm working on my grammar and spelling – which was commented on in the previous chapter - so hopefully there shouldn't be any huge glaring errors). The one that'll probably get me is apparating, aparrating, or apparrating – I haven't got my books at the moment so I can't check... anyhow. More updates coming (hopefully) soon, as I seem to have been gifted with some free time (watch as that jinxed it!) Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Okay, I may have taken a few liberties with Severus' personal history, and his younger personality, but I promise it'll blend in along the way, so if it seems completely off to you, I'm sorry, can you just try to maybe skim over the not so blended edges? Just for now...**

**Again, thanks to everyone who reviewed and whatnot; it's quite silly how happy knowing people are reading this and not hating it makes me :) **

**Disclaimer: If it sounds familiar I don't own it.**

**Chapter Three**

"From the top, Mione, tell me everything." Ginny leaned eagerly across the kitchen table at the Burrow, keeping her voice low. Hermione sipped her hot chocolate and thought for a moment. When she had announced yesterday that she was going to the ministry to get herself out of marrying her once professor, she had not expected to come out vowing that she would marry him if it was the last thing she did. She also wasn't too certain how Ginny would take the news of her dramatic turn around.

"Well, it didn't exactly go to plan, you see, when I got there, he was already there." She then proceeded to outline the morning's events. Ginny, who was a well practiced audience, made all the right comments in all the right places. Until finally, "and then he said he'd 'rather become one of the muggle homeless than marry you'." Hermione declared in her best angry potions master imitation, reassuring her friend that she was not upset by this.

"Ouch." Ginny responded, but the moment passed quickly, "what did you say to that?"

"Well, nothing really, because he stormed off, you know, how he does, only he wasn't wearing his billowy robes so it didn't quite have that 'I'm a giant storm cloud' thing going on." They shared a moment of laughter, quickly hushed by Mrs Weasley glancing over at them. "Anyways, turns out that if he won't marry me, I'll either be banished with him, or I'll be forced to marry some random Death Eater." She said, skirting neatly over the fact that she had already decided she was going to marry him just to prove her point.

"News flash, he is a Death Eater!" Ginny reminded her, a little louder than she had intended.

"I hope you two aren't talking about Severus Snape because you know very well –"

"yes, mum, we know, he was on our side all along and we should be very grateful for all he sacrificed" Ginny placated her mother in monotone, before smirking at Hermione and saying in a much quieter voice, so that Hermione also had to lean in to hear her. "so, how are you going to get him to marry you?"

"I just don't know, I mean, I don't think that trying to guilt him with getting me banished would work and while I don't believe he would force anyone to marry one of the rabble in Azkaban, that's not really something I want to push my luck with because, as you pointed out, he could easily have been one of them. I don't want him to think that that side of him horrifies me, you know, I want this to be a good marriage. I know it's not ideal circumstance, but I reckon we have enough in common to at least be able to stand each others company." Hermione paused in thought for a moment.

"You could always just try to seduce him." Ginny suggested with a determinedly straight face.

"Do you not think that might be a bit, well, obvious? No, it needs to be subtle. We'll just have to have a think while we're out shopping, maybe something in Diagon Alley will give us inspiration."

Right on time, Mrs Weasley called, "Okay Girls, here comes Minerva, are you ready to go?"

Ten minutes later the four witches were wandering between the shops. Hermione and Ginny hanging back a little and still muttering to each other, so engrossed in their plots that they failed to notice that Minerva and Mrs Weasley had a very similar topic of conversation.

"You know, I could have guessed they'd be paired together, Molly," Minerva said conspiratorially, glancing over her shoulder to check the girls weren't listening. "I taught both of them, after all, and all their test scores came back within a few points of each other and way ahead of everyone else. Then there's all the time they would spend in the library, reading and researching. I've never known two students who put as much effort into their work and enjoyed doing it. "

"But, Minerva, he's so... cold and shut off and Hermione's so bright and bubbly. They may have a similar intellect but you can't honestly say they're a match on personality." Molly replied a little anxiously. It wasn't that she disliked Severus, in fact, quite the opposite; she had always had something of a soft spot in her maternal nature for the man when he was younger. It was just that she couldn't see either him or Hermione being truly happy in their marriage.

"That's the thing, though, isn't it, just imagine for a moment that Severus hadn't been completely isolated during his last few years at school. Just imagine that Lily, god rest her soul, could have fond it in herself to forgive him, or that those marauders hadn't made his life quite so difficult. Imagine that Lily had lived and he didn't have to carry around that burden with him. Don't you think, that had that bright young man been able to flourish, just as Hermione has, that he might not be quite so cold and shut off? You must remember what he was like when he first joined the order, even."

"Oh, he was such a polite young man, wasn't he? always please and thank you, and let me help you with that." Molly smiled indulgently. "I remember, when he came back to the burrow for that meeting after he'd been to that revel,"

"The one where they caught the spy?"

"Yes, that one, paler than a ghost he was and shaking so bad he couldn't hold the calming draught Poppy had made him. I told Dumbledore, I said, he's too young, Albus, you can't ask him to go back knowing that's what they'll do to him if he gets caught, or even suspected. Then, not a month later he lost Lily. Dumbledore brought him to us, you know, after he told him. I looked after the poor lamb, but he didn't speak to anyone, he wouldn't eat anything, just sat there, it was like he was just a shell, you know, just like he'd had the kiss or something."

"Poor boy" Minerva echoed, nodding understandingly.

"Then, just when I thought he'd never speak again, Dumbledore turned up and suddenly he's off back up to the school to teach again! Well, I thought maybe that'd bring him back to himself a bit you know, but then next thing I hear is when our Bill started at Hogwarts and all he can go on about is this horrid potions master who'll knock points off if you blink too frequently."

"Oh, he's not that bad, you just have to know how to... handle him. I know he terrorises the students and I know that when he was on the staff at Hogwarts many of the teachers found him to be, unapproachable at best, but he's never really crossed that line; you only ever get defensive wounds from going against Severus. He's a powerful individual and I'm certain that he could have done allot more damage in that year when he was headmaster than he did. Of course, at the time it didn't seem like it, but hindsight is a wonderful thing."

"I suppose I'll just have to try harder to see the young man he grew out of." Molly sighed, "But for now, how are we going to help him and Hermione along the way? I heard her telling Ginny earlier that he's actually threatened to go muggle rather than marry her. You don't think he means it do you?"

Minerva shook her head emphatically, "of course not, you know Severus, it has to be on his terms or it's not happening. He just needs to think that it's all his idea, Hermione's an intelligent girl, I'm sure she'll figure that out soon enough. In the meantime, I have a couple of plans I can put into action, just to prod them in the right direction." Molly had always thought that it was just Albus' nature to meddle in other people's lives, but now she wondered if maybe it wasn't somehow woven into the contract of being head of Hogwarts.

-#x#-

Severus needed to get out of the house. He needed a distraction. He needed something to stop him from hearing her confident, challenging voice in his head, _Do you know, I think I might quite enjoy being married to you, obviously someone needs to show you that not everything in life is black and white, or more, red and green. _How dare she? He most definitely did not need anyone to show him anything. Who was she to presume that she could change his views of the world? More over, what the hell made her think he would marry a... a... a _Gryffindor_ like her.

He would go to Diagon Alley. He had received an owl informing him that his latest ingredients order was ready to be collected, he could browse the book store for a while, maybe have lunch in the Leaky Cauldron, then he would come home, calm and refreshed and he could get on with some serious brewing, maybe finalise the latest of the recipe alterations he had made in his research. Yes, that was it; he would throw himself into his research and forget all about his... marriage problems. Wait, marriage problems? He wasn't even married yet! He wasn't even getting married! That was it; he had to get out of the house. Now. With a swish of cloak and a crack like a whip, Severus left his home at Spinners End for the hustle and bustle of the main shopping district.

It was quite gratifying to stride down the middle of the cobbled street and see the crowds part before him. What was not so gratifying were the seemingly ever present whispers behind hands and the occasional open pointing. That's what you get for following orders that shock the world. He knew there was still some out there who disagreed with the ministry's decision to give him his freedom, let alone return his wand. The display in the window of Flourish and Blotts caught his eye, perhaps he would call in there first; it was on his way to the apothecary after all. Turning off, he inwardly smiled as people pretty much scrambled out of his way. He may not be a teacher anymore, but by Merlin, he still had it... whatever 'it' was.

He knew he had made the right decision as soon as he stepped through the door and smelt that fresh yet slightly musty smell that can only be produced by hundreds, maybe even thousands of books all together in one place. Old books, bound in leather (and some other more _exotic_ coverings). New books, freshly printed just waiting to be thumbed through. Severus took a deep breath and prepared to loose himself in the world of paper. Tracing the spines before him almost reverently with a long slender finger, Severus no longer cared about the continued whispering, nor did he notice that the very woman he was trying to avoid thinking about had just walked through the door, red-head sidekick in tow.

Hermione and Ginny, having left Mrs Weasley and Minerva outside Fortesques, had come into Flourish & Blotts mainly on Hermione's insistence that a new book would help her think. Ginny was not convinced, but then, Hermione had discovered instructions for stranger things in books. Upon entering the store, Ginny had to resist rolling her eyes as Hermione heaved a contented sigh and immediately vanished into the towering shelves.

Hermione read every title as she passed, grazing each title with her finger as she moved down the aisles, completely unaware of her surroundings, it was just her and the books. Suddenly, there it was, the book she was looking for, though she had not realised it until now. An old book, bound in dark brown leather, its pages frayed from years of faithful service to one owner or another. She reached out for it and closed her fingers over its delicate spine; only it didn't feel like a leather bound book should feel. In fact, she had never felt a spine feel quite so... tense. Very slowly as if rousing from a dream, Hermione realised that the spine of the book had changed colour, no longer was it dark brown, no, it was the colour of pale flesh, and it had changed shape too. Now it looked more like a row of fingers that a book. Indeed, said fingers were attached to a hand, which in turn was attached to an arm.

Swallowing in a slightly nervous manner, Hermione's eyes travelled down the length of that arm, in it's stark black sleeve, and then across a broad black clad shoulder, over a high collar and finally up to the pale face of her unwilling fiancé. He was not smiling. Hermione gave a nervous laugh and tried a smile. "Well, at least we know that we have our taste in books in common, right?"

"Let. Go. Of. My. Hand." He couldn't have put more rage into those five words if he'd yelled them instead of the barest whisper he used. She immediately complied. She may not have had a proper plan worked out, but annoying him more certainly wasn't in it. "Thank you." he responded with frosty politeness. He plucked the book from the shelf, turned on his heel and marched off.

"Whatever happened to Ladies first?" Hermione heard herself calling after him.

"Sounds like more chivalrous Gryffindor nonsense to me." the response came, just before he rounded the end of the bookcase and vanished from her sight.

"Still such a nice, kind-hearted gentleman isn't he?" Ginny commented dryly from Hermione's shoulder. But to Hermione, this was just the inspiration she had been looking for, now she had a plan.

Severus made his way from Flourish & Blotts directly to the apothecary. He hadn't bargained on encountering Hermione in Diagon Alley, though he felt that he had dealt with the situation well enough. She had responded to his unvoiced threat and removed her hand promptly. She had even had the good grace to look a little nervous when she had realised she was grasping his hand instead of the book. He was sure he had spotted it first, anyway; it was always first come, first served in these matters. Honestly, women only claim the whole ladies first rule when it's something good. Had anyone ever heard of a woman pushing past others and saying 'its ladies first you know' to be pushed into a vat of acid. No, he would not allow this to affect him in any way. He would continue with his day, browsing the shops, he would even stop in the Leaky for lunch. What were the chances of him bumping into her again, anyway?

He pushed the door to the apothecary open and was immediately greeted by the familiar scent of herbs and various other ingredients. "Ah, Mr Snape," Vincent, the owner, greeted him warmly from behind the counter. "Come for your package, have you? Yes, got it right here." He dipped behind the counter and produced a box, approximately the same size as a shoebox. "Hard work getting some of that list, Sir, hard work indeed. Tell me, what are you making?"

Severus arched an eyebrow, "A potion." He responded, unwilling to divulge further details of his closely guarded research. He handed over the correct number of coins and shrunk the box enough that he could fit it into his pocket. He was on his way back out into the crowded streets when the door opened once more, and of course, there stood Hermione. What, was she stalking him now?

"Sorry," she said pleasantly, stepping to the side, the same side as he had stepped. She laughed moving to the other side, mirroring the movement he himself had made. _Oh, this is ridiculous, _Severus growled to himself, before reaching out, gripping her firmly by the arms and moving her out of the way. That was it, he was free.

It was definitely lunch time now. Severus headed to the pub that was the doorway between wizarding and muggle London. It seemed his luck was out, the pub was packed, not a single table to spare. Severus turned to leave, thinking he would just have to go home, fix himself something as usual. That was when he heard someone calling his name. He turned back and saw Minerva McGonagall waving at him enthusiastically. She seemed to be alone, and she had made it onto his very short list of people whose company he found bearable, so he made his way over to her.

"Severus, so good to see you out and about." she pushed the chair opposite her out, "won't you join me for lunch? It seems an absolute age since we had a chance to catch up." Only a little reluctantly Severus seated himself, draping his cloak over the back of his chair. Minerva informed him that she had already ordered, so he placed his own order with the bar staff.

He turned back to Minerva just in time to see Molly Weasley slip into the chair beside her, smiling broadly at him in her overbearingly motherly way. "Severus," she beamed, "how are you? Are you eating properly? You look a little tired, are you sleeping alright?" she barely restrained herself from reaching across the table for him; he sat straighter in his chair and moved his arms out of her reach on instinct.

"I'm fine." He said politely, though his response went unheard as Molly had just risen from her seat and was waving frantically towards the door. He didn't have to turn around to know who she was hailing, who else could it be on a day like today? Sure enough not a minute later, the chair beside him had been filled with Gryffindor know-it-all.

"Hermione, dear, did you get everything you wanted?" Molly asked, "and you, Ginny, got everything?"

Ginny nodded beside her mother, her eyes moving from Severus to Hermione and back again an almost wicked grin spreading across her face. "Everything except my new book." Hermione said brightly, but with a pointed glance in Severus' direction. Humph, declared Severus.

Thankfully the food appeared before any further comments could be made. Severus immediately set about demolishing his meal as rapidly as courteously possible, wanting nothing more than to escape, but at the same time not wishing to offend Minerva, who, excluding the year between his killing Dumbledore and the end of the war, had always been kind to him.

-#x#-

An hour later and Severus once again found himself sitting in his chair before the fire in Spinners End, a bottle of firewhiskey on the table and a glass in his hand. How had his plan to clear his mind of that insufferable girl and all the problems she represented gone so far astray? Surely it was not normal to go somewhere to avoid someone and then end up holding their hand, almost running into them and then eating lunch with them? Severus shook his head, closed his eyes and drained his glass. It refilled itself instantly, thus were the wonders of magic.

Over half a bottle later, Severus withdrew from the packages beside him the book. The Book. The book she had wanted and he had taken from her. What had caught her attention about this medium sized, average looking tome? He wondered. Probably the same thing as had caught his eye. For this book, for all its average appearance, contained a collection of charms that could be combined with potions to strengthen them and produce more rapid effects. This mingling of the different branches of magic was very rarely documented as there were very few witches or wizards who thought both branches equal. He himself had frequently condemned 'foolish wand-waving' and he knew for a fact that Filius Flitwick often referred to potions as 'glorified cookery' though he couldn't have said with any certainty how much Filius meant it.

He turned the book over in his hand, tracing his thumb down the worn spine, trying not to remember the touch of her hand against his, with her smooth, warm skin. He gave himself an angry mental shake and set the book aside. Clearly his mind was set on betraying him. Well, at least betrayal was something he was used to. Severus downed the final glass of firewhiskey from the bottle. Maybe sleep would offer him some respite.

**AN: Apologies to anyone who was anticipating a huge plotting and scheming session from Hermione and Ginny, I thought I'd delegate it to the older generation. Fear not, however, there will be more from Hermione's own plan in the next chapter. Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thank you, as always, to everyone who has reviewed. It's always nice to be told it's going okay :) **

**Disclaimer: Unless something very strange has happened, I'm not JKR and I hold no rights to anything you recognise...**

**Chapter Four**

_**Two weeks later -**_

Hermione pulled her coat a little tighter around herself as she walked down the street named Spinners End. It all looked so... ordinary. Not entirely certain why she had thought it wouldn't be ordinary, perhaps it was too many dinners and holidays spent in The Burrow, a house held together and held up by magic. She checked the slip of parchment Minerva had given her, and then squinted at the house numbers in the dazzling sunlight. This was it; the house on the very end. It looked exactly like every other house on the street, except, she noted with a stifled laugh, instead of brightly coloured flowers in terracotta pots gracing the front door step, there stood two rusted old cauldrons full of – she bent to examine them closer – herbs. Yes, this was the right place after all. Summoning all her Gryffindor courage, she produced the two ministry scrolls she had retrieved only an hour ago and knocked resolutely on the door.

She was quite surprised when she heard hurried foot steps approaching the door, which was pulled open to reveal one Severus Snape. She let her eyes slowly wander over his appearance, partially out of curiosity and partially to unnerve him. He was wrapped in a towel and quite obviously fresh from the shower, hair pushed back from his face and dripping tiny trails of water over his scarred shoulders and chest. She could see the livid snake bite scar on his neck but didn't allow her eyes to linger there for too long before bringing them up to meet his own. She was astounded to find that he didn't look angry. He did, however, shut the door.

"I know you're still there, Severus." She told the door. Silence. "There's no good pretending, I know you haven't walked away because I haven't heard your retreating footsteps." Silence. "Why don't you just let me in, before the neighbours start asking questions?" she wasn't entirely certain his neighbours would ask questions, nor whether it would bother him if they did. Silence. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine" she said in a louder voice, "I guess you have moved away after all, so I'll just have to speak up so you can hear me." Her voice grew louder still "I've brought the marriage contracts to be signed." "Did you hear me?" she was practically shouting now, "the marr-" the door opened, a hand reached out and dragged her over the threshold before slamming the door closed again. "There now, that wasn't so hard was it?" she said sweetly, at her normal volume.

Severus grunted and went back upstairs, presumably to get dressed. That left Hermione alone in the hall and slightly torn. Should she wait for him here at the bottom of the stairs where he had left her, like a little lost school girl? Should she venture forth through the door that stood open to her right and wait for him in there? She stuck her head round the door of the room as if this might help her decide. It did. She immediately moved through the door, turning all the way around. Every available wall space was covered in floor to ceiling book cases, and these bookcases were so packed with books, it looked like they were ready to explode. There were even books on the mantle above the fireplace. Now Hermione had another reason to marry him, there was no way she was passing up the opportunity to read all these books, and she was fairly certain there was no other way she would get access to them. She was just about to go in for a quick inspection, just to see what was there, when she heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Please come in, Miss Granger, make yourself at home." Severus was leaning against the door frame, arms folded across his chest. It seemed that he felt the need to make up for the amount of exposed skin she had seen, because now he was so covered the only bits she could see were his hands and face, his collar so high it very nearly covered his chin.

"Your sarcastic wit is, as ever, refreshing, Severus." She rejoined.

"Once again, I do not remember inviting you to use my first name." At least he wasn't openly snarling at her. She chose to ignore him and move on to business.

"I've brought you the copies of the marriage contract; the ministry requires us to sign them to confirm that we are engaged to be married." She held out the two identical scrolls, he didn't take them, didn't even look at them.

"We aren't engaged to be married. We never were engaged to be married, and unless you plan on using some form of as yet unknown mind control on me, because I assure you I can fight off all known forms quite effectively, we never will be engaged to be married. Good Day, Miss Granger, I trust you can find your own way out." He moved across the room and into what she assumed was the kitchen. She followed him, as quietly as possible. He flicked his wand at the kettle, which instantly boiled. He poured the hot water into a mug that stood ready on the side, to this he added 1 teaspoon of sugar, stirred the black coffee five times clockwise and, without so much as a glance, tossed the spoon to the side, into the sink.

"Do you do everything with so much regimented precision?" she asked, as if he had never dismissed her. She saw his shoulders tense, saw that tension travel all the way down his arms and out into the knuckles that turned even whiter against the edge of the black stone work surface.

"Merlin, grant me patience." He growled, as if to himself. He turned around to face her, drawing himself up to his full height, which, she had to admit, was considerably taller than herself. "Miss Granger, I do not seem to recall inviting you to join me in my kitchen. In fact, though I realise that subtlety is a concept completely beyond the grasp of a Gryffindor such as yourself, I do believe that I implied, by the words 'show yourself out', that you were to leave."

"But you haven't signed the contract."

"We covered this as well. I am not going to sign your bloody contract."

"Then, I'm not leaving." As if to enforce her point, she pulled out one of the chairs that stood around a table that looked as if it had never been used and sat herself down with a smile. "Anyway, it'll be nice to spend some time getting to know each other, I mean, you can't marry someone you know nothing about."

"I will give you one final chance, Miss Granger," He took a step towards her, his voice a menacing undertone, "leave my house this instant of your own free will or I will make you leave."

"No, you won't." She said confidently, still smiling serenely at him.

"Do you really want to test that theory?" He threatened, advancing another pace.

"I don't need to test it. You're not going to bodily remove me from your house. If you cared enough about the reaction of your neighbours not to allow me to stand on your door step shouting about marriage contracts, then you certainly care enough not to be seen forcing a small and defenceless young woman out of your house." She told him, using the same tone she had always used in class to answer his questions.

Severus considered this for a moment. His neighbours were certainly nosy enough to have come to their windows when she had started shouting. They were also interfering enough to do something stupid like call the muggle police if they saw him wrestling her out of his house. The last thing he needed was a load of muggles coming round and asking him questions.

"Anyway," she continued, "you want to sign the contract." That brought him out of his thoughts with a thunk.

"Do you just not listen? Or is your brain that logged with ever scrap of knowledge that you've ever dragged from the pages of a book that spoken word just can't be processed anymore?"

"Severus," she ignored him grinding his teeth as she once again used his first name, "look around. If you were truly going to embrace muggle life in two weeks time rather than even admit to being engaged to me, you would have gone by now. You would not have stayed here, where your presence is known to the ministry, where they can hound you for not obeying their law. Or, at very least, there would be some sign that you had begun making preparations to leave. You're just not a last minute kind of person, really, are you?"

"It may have escaped your notice, Miss Granger, but I still have "two and half months before marriage becomes a legal requirement."

"But, you are legally required to be engaged by the end of this month, so to take full advantage of those extra two months, you need this." She shoved a scroll across the table at him. If he could have set it on fire with nothing more than a stare it would have been a smouldering pile of ash before it had left her hand. He knew she was right. He had read the law thoroughly enough himself. Quickly he weighed his options in his mind. He could refuse to sign, thus effectively expelling himself from the wizarding world in just over two weeks. He could sign it and use the extra two months this brought him to better prepare himself for expulsion; perhaps moving some of his savings innocuously into a muggle bank account. Or he could sign it and marry her on the allotted date, thus binding himself to her, but also allowing him to stay in the wizarding world. Did he really want to be a muggle? He knew their way of life, his father had been one. He knew he could survive like that, but did he really want to? Was he really willing to sacrifice his potions, his magical books, and his wand, just to avoid marrying this woman? He needed more time to think this through. With a sigh his answer hit him. He unrolled the scroll of parchment.

_I, Severus Tobias Snape, hereby confirm my engagement with intent to marry Miss Hermione Jean Granger on 28__th __day of the August of this year at 3pm. _

"All you've got to dois sign and date. Then they go back to the ministry." She told him in a nice calming voice. "And then I'll go, I won't contact you until it's all over. I promise." She added, as if sensing that he needed more encouragement.

Severus summoned a quill and prepared to sign his life away, but something made him stop. "miss Granger," he began slowly, "why exactly are you so desperate that I should sign this contract, and in fact, marry you?"

Hermione had been hoping that he wouldn't ask that. She had even for a brief second thought she might have got away with it, until the quill had paused, less than an inch above the parchment and he had turned his dark eyes upon her. "I wouldn't say I was desperate." She told him evasively, not liking the ay his lips curled upwards in a sneer.

"Then why have you come here a mere two weeks after the law was passed? Why not wait until the last possible moment?" She held off answering as long as she could, turning her answer over and over in her mind trying to phrase it just right.

Finally she decided she had no choice but to dive straight in. "did you have more than one name on your list?" she asked in a resigned voice. He didn't respond so she pushed recklessly on, "On your list of compatible and ministry acceptable marriage partners, how many names were there? I guess that, just like on mine, there was only one. Now, what do you imagine will happen to me if you refuse to marry me? Do you think the ministry will just shrug its shoulders and leave me be?"

"They'd banish you too." Realisation dawned on him for the first time that his leaving would effect more than just himself. Hermione nodded, choosing, for now, not to mention the other possibility. "But surely, this would not be such a huge catastrophe for you, you are young, you are muggle born, you are still closely linked to the muggle world." he declared, his tongue working faster than his mind. He saw the flash of pain the crossed her eyes, and almost regretted his words.

"And so, it doesn't matter to you that, because of your selfish decision, I would be forced out of the world were I have friends, and people who love and care for me as I do them, out into a world that holds nothing for me? I have nothing in the muggle world, nothing. No friends, no family, no qualifications even, just like you." She wanted the slight tremble in her voice to be caused by anger, rage at him for being so uncaring and thoughtless, but part of it was still the spark of pain at the knowledge that everything she had once known, everything that tied her to the world before Hogwarts was effectively gone.

Severus didn't want to admit that she as right, that he had been selfish. He should have considered the further repercussions of his plan. He should have realised that if he only had one name on his list, then in all likelihood so did she. He didn't want her to realise that he knew what it was like to be part or a world and yet not part of it. With another resigned sigh, Severus lowered the quill the final half inch to the parchment and signed his name. He didn't look at Hermione as he rolled the scroll back up and pushed it back across the table towards her.

"Tha-"

"Don't" he cut across her, calling once more on his old reserves of bitterness, anger and hate. "Do not thank me, Miss Granger. For I have not given you anything. I have merely bought myself some more time. I may yet leave you to your fate, or worse." The ice in his voice caused her to shiver, but she nodded in understanding, picked up the scroll and, as good as her word, made her way silently out of his house, out of his street, and, when she finally apparated in a dark alley a few streets away, out of his town.

-#x#-

Severus was enjoying the return of his Hermione Granger free life. She had kept her promise; it was three weeks now since he had signed the marriage contract, and in that time he had not so much as heard her name. Admittedly, he was now facing the decision of whether he really was going to marry her, which he wasn't, no, absolutely not, he just hadn't quite got round to planning his new muggle way of life yet, but there was plenty of time.

Sipping his coffee as he stirred his cauldron, Severus knew that there was no rush; he still had just over seven weeks in which to make good his escape. He had also decided that if he was going to forever give up potions making, he might as well try to complete the final version of the potion he had been researching, there was no point in leaving unnecessary loose ends, after all.

Unfortunately for Severus, this morning in early July was not to pass quite as uninterrupted as the previous few weeks had. He had just sat down to record his observations on the potion when he felt his wards informing him that someone was trying to floo him. They would just have to try again later. Perhaps he could invent some sort of message talking device for the floo, like a muggle answering machine, after all, the ministry seemed to have gotten muggle telephones to work in their buildings. The wards shifted again, who ever it was clearly wanted to talk to him badly. Never mind, he was working, this was important. The wards shifted a third time. He couldn't work if he was to be repeatedly poked. Slamming his quill down , he stomped up the stairs and unwarded the floo, immediately Minerva McGonagall's head appeared. "Severus, I knew you were home." She said lightly, "you know you really shouldn't ignore people like that, you'll start people thinking you're antisocial." He didn't respond to her teasing.

"Was there something specific you wanted Minerva? Presumably something urgent from your incessant attempts to communicate with me?" he folded his arms across his chest even as he sank down to the ground, so as to easier speak with her.

"Yes, actually, there was. It's not life and death so don't worry, oh, Severus, do stop scowling, I just wanted to ask if you'd consider helping us make up our stock of potions for the hospital wing?"

"Why can't your Potions Professor do it?" Severus immediately responded, this had 'plans to interfere' written all over it.

"Of course I knew you'd be reluctant," Minerva heaved a dramatic sigh, "It's just that I'm quite loathe to interrupt Richard. He's working on his Masters, you know, he might even break your record. He's such an enthusiastic person too, he's adapted quite a few of your old recipes" she hadn't lied, she told herself. At no point had she actually lied. He had adapted the recipes, by turning them back into the original recipes. He was enthusiastic, and he was working on his masters, he even would break Severus' record if he completed his work in the next six months, she had just neglected to mention that there was not a snowballs chance in hell of him actually completing his work in that time.

She thought she heard Severus growl low in his throat, she knew he was very proud of being the youngest person to ever receive a Masters in Potions. She also knew that he couldn't stand the idea of anyone besting his own recipes. Of course, it helped that no one could ever say that Severus Snape was not competitive.

"So, you'd just want me to replenish the stocks for the hospital wing?" he asked after a moment,

"Absolutely, I mean, I completely understand if you feel you're not up to it anymore. You have been retired for a few years now; you must be a bit out of practice." For a second, Minerva thought she had crossed the line, convinced that she had just insulted him a little too much, she braced herself for the vocal explosion of rage and indignation.

"I most certainly am not out of practice. I could make those potions in my sleep, and make them better than any young upstart who doesn't know how to respect his elders." He told her, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"You'll do it then? Oh, thank you Severus. I knew I could count on you, I'll arrange everything." Minerva beamed, but Severus had already risen from the floor and was walking out of the room, she thought she heard him muttering 'adapting my recipes indeed, I'll show him.'

-#x#-

Hermione couldn't honestly say that her last three weeks had been as relaxing as Severus'. She had succeeded in convincing him to sign the marriage contracts, but as he himself had pointed out, there was still every chance that he could just use the extra two months to completely vanish, thus leaving her own fate completely out of her control. She had to convince him that marrying her was his best option, and fast. The trouble was, how do you convince someone when you've promised not to contact them? She had been pondering this very question when Mrs Weasley had invited her to join them for dinner. She was still pondering it as she sat at the Weasley's kitchen table.

The conversation buzzed on around her, Harry, Ron and Mr Weasley discussing the upcoming Quidditch match, and Ginny, Lavender and Mrs Weasley all discussing Lavender's blooming pregnancy and all related topics. Hermione wasn't really listening; she was racking her mind for a way to talk to Severus without actually contacting him. She wondered, did it count as contact if she got someone else to pass on a message but not say it was from her?_ Come on, Hermione, you can do better that that_, she scolded herself silently, _what's the point in being the smartest witch of your age if you can't even figure out a simple problem like this?_

She was eventually brought out of her reverie by Mrs Weasley's concerned face swimming in front of her vision. "Hermione, dear, are you quite alright?"

"Yes, yes," she said with a hurried smile, "I'm fine."

"I only ask, because I've been talking to you for the past five minutes and you haven't so much as blinked." Hermione's smile faltered slightly. Really? Had she really been that lost in her own thoughts?

"I'm sorry; I guess I'm just a bit preoccupied."

"That's quite alright, dear," Mrs Weasley smiled knowingly at her, "we understand that you're under a lot of pressure what with this law and things. I was just saying that Minerva was asking after you when I saw her yesterday, said something about some potions she needs help brewing, you know how her new teacher's not really up to the level Poppy has come to expect for her stocks. She thought it might also help take your mind off things, give you something else to think about?"

"Oh, yes, I suppose it might." Hermione said slowly. If Minerva wanted potions brewing, why hadn't she just asked Severus? Maybe she had asked Severus and he had refused, or, her mind unhelpfully supplied, maybe she couldn't get hold of him because he'd left the wizarding world forever. She took a deep breath, steadying her reeling mind. If Minerva had been unable to contact Severus, she would have mentioned it to Molly. She knew the situation, she would have said something. She knew the situation, maybe, just maybe, this was a plan. "Yes, what am I saying, of course I'll help Minerva."

"Lovely, I'll let her know, she said to just come up to the castle on Monday and she'll have everything sorted." Mrs Weasley smiled a little too much and went dived enthusiastically into the conversation, now whether purple was a suitable colour for a boy.

**AN: I'm not entirely happy with the end of this chapter, but I've fiddled it and prodded it and poked it, even tried shaking it upside down and it just doesn't want to click for me, so I've reverted to my original draft. I have now written enough that I'm a chapter ahead of what I'm posting, so hopefully, baring anything truly horrendous happening (natural disasters effecting my internet – unlikely in England, the kids trying to eat my computer – slightly more likely but still not a major threat... that kind of thing) I should be able to maintain this almost daily posting schedule I seem to have set fallen into – and to think when I posted the first chapter I wasn't certain if I'd be able to post again for weeks, but hey, such is life. If I do encounter problems I will endeavour to give fair notice and not leave major gaps... Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, I had thought to write the last chapter off as a bad day, but it seems you disagree... **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise... I just borrowed it for a while for the amusement value...**

**Chapter Five**

Severus stood just outside the gates of Hogwarts, staring through the bars at the sunlit castle, seemingly so distant on its hill overlooking the world. He had left as soon as he had been well enough to discharge himself from Poppy's care and had not returned. That had been almost four years ago. Now it seemed the windows stared back at him like so many accusing eyes, and of course the astronomy tower, the setting for so many of his nightmares, loomed over it all.

He took a deep breath and placed his hand against the cool metal of the gate, he had not planned on coming back here, the scene of so many crimes. He had been surprised when Minerva had insisted that he come to the castle to brew, but then again, he supposed that some of the potions were too delicate to be apparated, floo-ed, or even entrusted to owl transport. At least Minerva had succeeded in securing for him an assistant to handle the more basic tasks, and therefore decreasing the length of time he had to endure being here, once again amongst the roving ghosts of his own mind.

Dumbledore had once told him that only in ourselves do we have the power to stop our fears from controlling us. He was right, and Severus had vowed never to be controlled by anyone or anything but himself ever again. It was this thought that caused him to square his shoulders and push on boldly through the gates. It was this thought that sustained him all the way up the path, eyes averted from the high tower, and finally through the great front doors into the entrance hall. Once he was inside, he felt somewhat easier about being here. Perhaps it was simply that it was impossible to deny the warm, homely atmosphere of the castle, even now, in the middle of the summer break. Minerva had assured him that his usual brewing dungeon would be all set up and waiting for him, so it away from the Great Hall that he turned, moving past another door and off along the winding stone passages.

The further into the darkness he travelled, the more at home he felt. It was strange really, it had been in these dungeons that he had been his most isolated, here amongst these stones that he had been bullied by the Gryffindors, tormented by the Slytherins, and mocked by the Ravenclaws. Even the Hufflepuffs aloof indifference had bitten deep into his soul. At the same time, however, it was here in these frigid cellars that he had been able to prove himself; it was these very rooms that had provided him with the solitude he craved when, assaulted and wounded almost to death, he had returned from many an encounter with the Dark Lord. It was these cauldrons full of shimmering potions that had given him his greatest comfort at a time when he had thought his very heart should stop working from the pain. Here, he was truly home.

His hand brushed against the hard wood of a familiar door. He pushed it open and entered his old work space, of course, it had never been so easily accessible in his days, but the room looked as if he had only stepped out for a few moments. The cauldrons stood on their stands, ready and waiting. The tables were all scrubbed, and topped with the correct jars and packets. Even the book cases still held the battered collection of texts that he had never reclaimed after his departure. He heaved a contented sigh; despite everything that had passed inside these walls, it was good to be back.

To work. He shrugged off his heavy outer robe and hung it on the hook on the back of the door, leaving him in plain white shirt sleeves, which he rolled back, once the fires were lit and the potions simmering the room would be too hot, and he despised having to pause in his work over such silly things. He pulled a band form his pocket and used it to secure his hair back, out of his face. A list of the required potions stood on the table beside the ingredients; he gave it a cursory glance. Best start with the blood replenishing potion; that needed to stand for the longest. Severus pulled the first of the ingredients towards him – leeches. Reaching for the sharp knife he had spied, he began to slice them vertically, careful to keep all the fluid leaking from them on the chopping board. He had almost completed his task when the door opened once more. Had he not been half expecting someone to join him, it might have made him jump. He turned to acknowledge the new comer, thinking that it must be this assistant that Minerva had told him of.

Hermione pushed open the door to the lab. She had been in here earlier to set out all of the ingredients they would need, wanting to be as prepared as possible for when Severus arrived. Minerva had openly informed her that she was to be working as Severus' assistant, and so Hermione had made it so that he would have as few reasons to send her from the room as possible. She had assumed that Minerva had also told Severus that she would be his assistant and she had been surprised that he seemed to have agreed to this. Now she was stood facing him, however, she thought that perhaps Minerva might have... forgotten to mention it.

As their eyes met across the room, Hermione suddenly felt the rush of fear that comes from facing an angry ex-Death Eater holding a very sharp knife. Courage, Hermione, Gryffindor courage. "I see you've made a start without me." She was quite proud of how level her voice sounded.

"Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no." He slammed the knife down onto the table. "Tell me that Minerva has not hired _you_ as my assistant." She stepped a little further into the room, rolling up her sleeves as she went, confirming his worst suspicions. Immediately he stalked past her and out of the room. He would explain to Minerva that he could not work with Hermione Granger. She was a sensible woman, she knew the situation, she would understand. She knew the situation. Severus stopped mid stride in the middle of the deserted corridor. He had been set up. Minerva McGonagall had knowingly invited both of them of them here without telling him, and perhaps not telling Hermione, of her pans. He couldn't decide if he was more stunned or outraged. How had she managed to get this past him? He must be out of practice after all; he should have seen it coming.

He spun round and marched back through the door he had just exited. He took up his knife once more and finished slicing the leeches, it helped him think. He was going to pay Minerva back for this. He was going to ignore Hermione who stood watching him as if concerned for his sanity. She had guessed he had stormed out to go berate Minerva, but he had barely been gone thirty seconds when he was storming back in again. "Umm..."

Severus spun round, knife still in hand. "You have agreed with Minerva that you will be my assistant, I presume?" he shot at her vehemently.

"Yes, but-"

"Then, as my assistant you will comply with the following rules. You will follow any and all instructions I give you precisely and immediately. You will not deviate from those instructions. You will not do anything that I have not specifically told you to do. You will not speak unless I directly address you. Do you understand?" Hermione eyed the knife he had been gesticulating with nervously. She nodded. "Good. You can prepare the burn salve, I trust that is not too advanced for you?" she wasn't even going to dignify his jabs at her talent, she told herself, as she confidently rounded the table to collect the necessary ingredients.

Silence is good, Severus told himself, silence made it easy for him to concentrate. She had, he grudgingly admitted, always been good at potions; she had to be to keep Longbottom in one piece. She was certainly capable of being his assistant for this short time. He doubted it would take much more than a month to brew all the necessary potions if they used their time effectively and worked hard. He chanced a glance up at her; she was diligently chopping her roots. Good. It was good that there was now no need to talk.

Hermione felt his eyes on her and looked up, was she doing something wrong? No. She knew what she was doing; she had made all these potions and more for when herself and The Boys (as she affectionately thought of them) had been on their hunt for horcruxes. Recognising that she wasn't 'allowed' to talk she raised a questioning eyebrow and made a slight shrugging gesture with her hands, clearly 'what?' She was pleased to note that he quickly looked back at his own chopping board. Maybe this wouldn't be as boring as she thought.

The moments dragged into hours as they worked in absolute silence, Hermione covertly watching Severus as he chopped, sliced, squished and stirred. She was fascinated by the utterly calm confident way his hands seemed to work independently of each other. He could stir the bubbling mixture in his cauldron with one hand and yet be chopping away with his usual dexterity and precision with the other. It occurred to her then that she had never actually seen him brew anything before, of course she knew he did brew, it was kind of a given, but to actually see him working with her own eyes she felt very... privileged, as if she was witnessing something special and secret.

Hauling her attention back to her own concoction she realised that she needed to use the scales. The scales were on his side of the table, it was the prefect opportunity. She contemplated for a brief moment how best to achieve her goal. Slowly, carefully, she reached across the table, moving swiftly enough not to look as if she were feeling guilty about her actions she 'accidentally' knocked his hand just before she grasped the scales. Just as she had intended, the knife moved just a fraction off course, not enough to ruin the perfect batch of leaves he had been shredding, but enough to make him put the knife down and glare at her. "What do you think you are doing?" he growled. It had worked; he had addressed her, she could speak.

"I was getting the scales, Severus, I would have asked you to pass me them, but being as I'm not allowed to speak..." She forced her face into a look of complete innocence.

"Don't be obstinate." He told her through gritted teeth, "And I know for a fact that I have never invited you to use my first name when addressing me." He went back to his exact shredding of his leaves.

Hermione waited just long enough for him to have settled back into his slicing, "what do you propose I call you then? You're not my professor, so I don't see the reason to call you that; I definitely think we've gone past the point where I can just call you Snape. I suppose I could call you Sir, if you like, or Master, but, being as we're engaged, people might think it's some sort of kinky-"

"Shut up, Miss Granger, and get on with your salve." Hermione tried not to smile at what she was certain was a faint blush creeping across the very tips of his ears.

Hermione continued with her salve, constantly alert for more opportunities to force Severus to directly address her, giving her the opportunity to attempt conversation. Much to her disappointment it seemed that he was not to be fooled by the same trick twice. He was being exceptionally careful to put the scales and any knives that she might need to use back in the centre of the table. She had almost completed the salve when she sparked upon another plan. Maybe she didn't need to force him to talk to her after all. Maybe, just maybe, if she just did exactly as he said, he'd lighten up a bit. Then again, this was Snape. Maybe she could just try it for a couple of days.

-#x#-

Severus walked into the lab bright and early on the twenty-second day of this farce. He was smiling, well, not _smiling_ smiling, but not scowling, or glowering or anything negative, and in his mind he was positively beaming. It just so happened that Little Miss Know-It-All-Say-It-All could actually hold her tongue. This was a revelation the magnitude of which he had never believed he would live to see. What was even better was that she could actually help him make the potions at the same time as holding her tongue; she didn't need him to constantly correct her, she didn't even need him to instruct her, she would just do. After so many years of struggling against the tide of idiocy, it was like a breath of fresh air to Severus. To top it all off, he suspected that in another four or perhaps five days and they would be done and he would be free to go back to his plan of completing his research.

Over the last few weeks he felt that they had found a perfect working balance. They would enter, they would work together in a silent and seamless collaboration, and they would leave. They would accomplish their daily goals easily, sometimes surpassing them by a considerable margin. Even the silence had become less tense as their work had worn on, now it was almost, _almost_ companionable.

Noting that Miss Granger was not already present (this was uncommon for her, but then he was half an hour early), Severus began removing the stasis charms they set upon the potions each night before retiring. By the time he had finished chopping up the next lot of ingredients headed for the pot, he was starting to feel something that may possible have been similar to concern at his lack of assistant. Not that he was actually concerned for her, if that's what the feeling even was, it was undoubtedly more that he was concerned that he... err... wouldn't finish up the potions as quickly working alone. Yes, that had to be it. He checked his watch; she had definitely never been this late before, though he had to acknowledge that they had never set a formal time to be here in the mornings. He shook it off. She was probably just suffering form 'women's problems' or some such silly excuse.

He had just about resigned himself to the fact that he was evidently alone from here on out when the door slammed open so hard it rebounded back off the wall with an almighty _CRACK_ and then slammed itself shut. Ah, it appeared his assistant had made it in after all. Well, he was not going to ask why she was late, no sir, she was not going to offload her sentimental sob story onto him, whatever it might be. He tightened his lips, pressing them into a thin and very straight line as he continued his careful rhythmic stirring without looking up. He heard her slamming things down and stomping about, clearly something had her in a towering rage. Finally, when she banged down a jar of very valuable jellied amaranth with enough force to shatter the glass, he felt he must intervene.

"Fucking hell!" she ground out staring at the shards of glass now littering the workspace, the slimy shimmering red substance oozing gradually towards the edge.

"Is something the matter, Miss Granger?" He asked with as much disinterested neutrality as he could muster.

She sighed, flicked her wand at the mess with a little too much force and, rather than repairing the damage, sent the whole lot sailing across the room to splatter the opposite wall. Severus fought to keep his blank expression as she muttered a second oath and the mixture began to slink gloopily towards the floor with a slow sticky squelching noise.

"No." She told him defiantly. So, she wanted to play that game did she? Very well, he could do that.

"Then I will expect you to use more care from now on, any further damage will undoubtedly require you to reimburse the school. I might suggest that if you do decide to break things for entertainment that you select the ingredients that can be easier replaced. Or better yet, you could leave your juvenile rages to be conducted somewhere other than my lab." Hermione's head shot up as she thought she detected the barest hint of suppressed laughter in his voice, but his face was as impassive as ever. Maybe he was laughing at her, she thought gloomily, after all, she had just all but thrown a toddler tantrum and then, to further her impression of a misbehaving child, had sulkily denied there was a reason. Her temper flared once again. She was not a child and damn it, she refused to be treated like one any more.

"If you think I'm so immature and irresponsible, then perhaps I shouldn't be working in a lab at all. After all, it only takes a second of distractions to cause a catastrophe. That wouldn't do, would it, to have all these potions ruined, and with it your precious reputation for perfection." Before she'd even thought her actions through, she had raised her wand and upended the nearest cauldron. Steaming purple liquid rapidly spread across the floor, dousing the flames beneath the remaining cauldrons. She was so surprised by her own actions that she failed to move herself out of its path and her ankles received a scolding soak. The mixture of half concocted muscle-rebuilding potion flooded into her sensible shoes, drenching her socks, her robes, the thin trousers she wore beneath them. Its heat made her skin burn and sear, and in turn they began to itch maddeningly.

In seconds Severus had crossed the room, carefully avoiding the spilled mixture himself. He banished the mixture that was on the floor but could work nothing on the amount that was steadily making its way up her legs with the aid of the fabric. "Idiot girl, take off your robes and anything else that has come into contact with the half-potion." he instructed her forcefully, adding, as he turned to the cupboards in search of his usual stock of emergency potions, "and for Merlin's sakes do not remove your gloves while you do it."

"I'm not taking off my robes and trousers in front of you!" she responded indignantly. Severus made a strange noise half way between an annoyed growl and an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Let it burn through your very skin and begin eating away at your muscles. What difference does it make to me?" He was glad to hear that his words affected her as with a muffled yelp he heard the hasty removal of the offending garments. When he turned back, his hand grasping the required bottle, however, he received something of a shock. Stood before him in only her thin pale blue blouse and her white knickers, he was mortified to find himself unable to withdraw his eyes from her long slender legs.

"Is the damage that bad?" she asked, thankfully misreading the expression that passed unthinking for a fleeting moment across Severus' face. He forced himself to meet her eyes. "You will heal. Sit on a stall." As soon as he had told her to do it he wished he hadn't. She had to bend just slightly to pull the stall out from beneath the work bench, causing the edge of the blouse to ride up a little and the somewhat lacy fabric of her underwear to stretch tightly across her buttocks.

Severus mentally slapped himself hard around the face on her behalf. This was no time to start ogling his student. _Only, she isn't your student_, a sly voice reminded him from somewhere in the very dark and distant recesses of his mind, _no; she is, quite handily, your fianc__ée_.

_Your fianc__é__e whom you never intend to marry._ A slightly stronger voice reminded him, his logical mind fighting back.

_That as maybe, surely a man can innocently look, if he has no intention to act. _The sly voice returned, soothing, calming.

"Is something wrong?" She looked nervous now, perched on her stall, knees pressed together, hands subconsciously puling at the hem of her blouse, trying in vain to cover herself better, but only succeeding in pulling the fabric taught across her chest. He had been still too long, looking at her too long; he gave himself another mental slap. He was above this. He had proved to himself time and time again that he was above this.

"No. I was merely contemplating where best to begin the healing." He lied smoothly, if there was one thing Severus knew how to do, it was hide his true thoughts and lie. He sank down before her and carefully examined both her ankles in turn. It seemed the right had sustained more damage, she had probably had the left foot back slightly to help her maintain her balance, he analysed automatically. Her feet were tiny and so delicate he thought it a positive wonder they could be used for something as mundane as walking. Focus, please, Severus, healing the ankles, not wistfully worshipping the feet. He carefully coated his hands in the first of the batch of potions and began to massage it gently into her skin without a second thought.

Hermione yelped and shot off the stall so fast it was a wonder she managed to land upright. "What are you doing?" she gasped, pointing her wand at him. He looked shocked for a bare second, but his face quickly realigned itself into a familiar smirk and arched eyebrow.

"Cutting your foot off." The words positively dripped with sarcasm."I'm applying a balm. What did you think I was doing, you stupid girl?"

It was obvious, now he said it. He hadn't hurt her, it was just that she had been so surprised to feel his fingers touching her, almost caressing her skin, and without so much as a hint of warning. She did feel quite stupid as she said dumbly "oh, sorry."

He gestured impatiently for her to return to the stall, and, shaking his head and muttering something that ended in 'Dunderheads' he resumed his ministrations. Hermione didn't consider why he was applying the balm instead of giving it to her to apply; in fact, she didn't question anything at all as his dexterous fingers skated over her flesh, soothing the itching burn caused by the potion. During the summer following her fifth year, her mother had taken her to a spa for a girly pampering day. They had both enjoyed the luxurious massages and she had felt herself slipping into an almost dreamlike state of relaxation. Now, as his hands moved with confident skill over her injured skin, she had that feeling once again.

Something was trying to pull her off this blissful cloud of repose. It kept getting louder. "Miss Granger!" she suddenly became aware that she was sitting on a very hard stool on the middle of a very cold room with a very annoyed looking potions master before her. What had just happened? She thought back. She had burnt herself; he had been massaging some sort of ointment into her injuries. Please, if there was any god at all, don't let her have done anything as foolish as drift off into that calming bubble as she had in fifth year. Bugger. She tried to smile and say thank you in a polite voice but it just wasn't coming, her embarrassment seemed to be blocking off her vocal cords.

Thankfully, he once again took charge of the conversation. "You realise that your foolishness has set us back by two weeks?" he demanded. Suddenly she felt like a first year all over again. She hung her head, not meeting his eyes. She felt tears prickle at the back of her eyes. Not now, she told herself, don't cry now. He sighed dramatically. "Now, perhaps you would care to enlighten me as to the cause of your little fit of pique so that we might avoid a re-enactment at a later date?"

"I'm sorry, Professor." She told him in a small trembling voice, which only added to her embarrassment as well as the feeling of hot tears forming in her eyes.

Another dramatic sigh, "I suppose, given that you are no longer my student, and you have proved yourself reasonably capable of not wreaking complete havoc with a potion, you may, if it really means that much to you, call me Severus." His voice sounded a little softer than usual. She chanced a glance at his face and he added, much more briskly, "Do pull yourself together, woman. I refuse to have tears besmirching my lab and if you persist I shall be forced to withdraw my offer." What had he been thinking? He scolded himself mentally, What was this sudden need to clear up that tiny tremor in her voice that suggested she had lost all the confidence she had gained over the years?

Surprisingly, that helped, she felt the itchy tickle recede and nodded acknowledgement. "Thank you. Severus." She said his name as if testing it on her tongue.

"You've called me that before, why suddenly act as if it's the first time?" he said almost impatiently.

"Because, it is the first time. It's the first time I've used it knowing you aren't going to hex me into oblivion for my impertinence." She told him truthfully, a small smile playing about her lips.

"Bloody sentimental Gryffindor." He sighed, but without his usual level of malice. "Come on, we've got work to do."

-#x#-

Something had changed that day, Hermione realised. They no longer spent their working days in stony silence. While he in no way allowed idle chatter, Severus was at least now willing to have some form of conversation, admittedly usually a debate on which ingredients worked best for which types of potions, and the like. Occasionally, however, Hermione was able to glean some tiny scrap of little more personal information before he quickly recovered his guard and she felt the walls blocking her out once more. For example, she learned one afternoon that Severus preferred to harvest his own potions ingredients in person and without magic wherever possible. She also discovered, one morning shortly after, that he kept tabs on the work of a select handful of muggle chemists. Perhaps most shocking, however, was the moment she discovered that Severus had not only heard of, but could name and hum almost every song of, the muggle band Guns & Roses.

Over the next few weeks, as they worked to replace the potion she had spilled, as well as those she had unwittingly rendered useless by extinguishing the fire beneath them at a time when they needed to be kept at a constant temperature, Hermione found herself wishing that there was someway she could convince him not to disappear into the muggle world. She thought of none, however, none that could be used to convince him in such a short amount of time. She was almost grateful that it took longer than Severus had initially predicted to fully complete their work. But, as each day dawned, she would walk into the lab, bracing herself for the day when he would not appear, he day he had chosen to vanish forever to save himself from the fate of marrying her. To keep her mind busy, she continued to work, not daring to believe that he might perhaps stay.

Finally, the morning of the 28th August dawned, bright and clear. Hermione saw the gradual transformation of night to day through the window of the chamber she had been provided by Minerva. She had not slept; she had not been able to stop her mind from wondering which far flung corner of the Earth Severus had chosen for his sanctuary. Vowing that she would throw herself into completing the final potion, which, Severus had soundly assured her the previous evening, would only be two hours more. Hermione made her way down to the dungeons. She hadn't spoken of today's significance to Severus; she guessed he didn't need reminding. She wondered vaguely if he thought he was being kind in not mentioning his inevitable desertion. With a sigh she approached the door to the lab.

"Morning." She could just hear his now familiar greeting as her hand pushed against the wood. Oh, her imagination was playing cruel tricks indeed, for his voice had sounded so real to her ears. She moved into the room, once again reinforcing her vow.

"!" she had nearly jumped through the roof in shock when the room was not deserted. Her heart thumped as adrenaline coursed around her body. Severus looked at her wide eyed from his place by the cauldron, his hand stilled in the action of ladling its contents into the small glass bottles.

"Are you feeling alright, Hermione? You look like you've seen a ghost." His voice sounded genuinely concerned, but it could have been concern for her sanity.

"y-y-you're here." She stammered, not trusting her own eyes.

"yes." He said slowly, now he was definitely questioning her mental stability.

"b-b-b-but-" She was interrupted by Minerva coming through the door behind her, accompanied by an important looking man whose robes had the ministry crest emblazoned upon them.

"Hermione, this is Mr Winsdale, he'll be talking you through -" she caught sight of Severus and jumped, just as Hermione had done but without, he was grateful to note, the ear splitting shriek. Had he done the same as old Binns? Gotten up this morning and simply left his body behind him? He looked down just to check, no, he was definitely still alive and whole, so why where they staring at him like that? Come to think of it, what was a ministry official doing here a mere four days before the start of term? Four days before the start of term. That made today August 28th. Oh shit. How had he let this happen? Had he really been that into his potion making that he had forgotten the deadline for escape looming before him? It would appear so. Oh, double shit.

**AN: I thought that'd be nice place to end the chapter... now, please don't shoot me, but I found out today that I'm going to be without computer access for a couple of days from tomorrow, so you might have to hang in there just a little longer than normal, but I promise the next chapter will be up by the end of Friday. In the meantime, feel free to let your mind speculate as to whether Severus can concoct some superbly Slytherin plot to save himself at the very last moment from being bound to Hermione. Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I'd just like to say WHOOOO my computers back! **

**Oh, and thank you for your patience... and your reviews. Here is an extra long chapter... see, good things come to those who wait :)**

**Disclaimer: Believe me, if I was JKR I wouldn't be typing on this ancient beat up laptop...**

**Warning: This chapter is not suitable for younger or immature readers, this whole fic was rated M for a reason... if you know you shouldn't really be reading this, I give you one final chance to turn away. Please respect the rating system.**

**Chapter Six**

Severus paced his old office, hating the changes that had been wrought in his absence. The slight lightening of the once deep emerald carpet, the addition of serpentine engravings on the candle sconces, the ugly metal filing cabinet that stood in the corner. Even his beautiful dark wood, heavily varnished desk didn't seem to hold it's old splendour now that a black plastic desk tidy stood upon it. With a sigh he pulled his mind back into order. He needed a plan, and he needed one now.

He just couldn't fathom how he had come to be here. How could he possibly have been so inconceivably stupid? He who for so many years had survived almost entirely on his own intelligence and cunning. He was utterly disgusted with himself. Emitting a low growl, Severus slammed his fist into the wall. It gained him nothing.

Think, Severus, Think. He told himself. This was not hard. This could not be hard. After all, how many times had he been an inch from death at the point of the Dark Lords wand – or more accurately at the point of a wand belonging to a specially chosen minion of the Dark lord – only to find, at the last possible second an ingenious reprieve that would allow him to crawl forward once more/ too many to name. Surely this pressure to escape could not be worse than having his life at stake. But of course, his life was at stake. Oh perhaps not quite as devastatingly literally as all those many times before, but if he went ahead with this, if he could find no last minute exit strategy, his life as he knew it was surely at an end. Severus Snape, a married man? In was as inconceivable to him as that he might cut off his own wand hand. Severus Tobias Snape, Husband of Hermione Jean Granger, no, she would be Hermione Jean Snape, wouldn't she? It was simply not right. There had to be another way.

Another low growl, his fist clenched, arm raised; a knock at the door. Who dared interrupt him, now, in his last moments of free thought before he must act to save himself? "enter." He barked, The spy in him smoothed all expression from his face, lowered his hand, forced his entire body to relax in a casual position leaning against the edge of the desk. The ministry official entered the room, along with Minerva McGonagall and Hermione, his soon to be prison warden. She looked as terrified as he was sure he would feel had he not trained himself long ago to be immune to fear.

"Mr Snape," the ministry official, Winsdale, Minerva had called him, smiled at him. To the rest of the world it was reassurance, to him it was the leer of the executioner to the condemned, "perhaps you would like to sit beside your bride? We have a few formalities that you need to be made aware of." As if on autopilot he sank into the chair the man gestured. Hermione, he noticed, could not meet his eyes as his glare raked over her.

The spy whispered, _be still, listen, gather your information, the better to bring down your enemies, you mist play your part and play it well. _He knew these words, how many times had he repeated them over in his own mind. He would obey, it was his only chance. "Good." Winsdale took the chair behind the desk as naturally as if he had always held it. This, more than anything else, displeased Severus, this mock respect that the ministry felt it had the right to. "Now, as I'm sure you are aware, you are to be married at three o'clock this afternoon. Before that happy event can occur, the ministry requires me to ensure that you fully understand the terms of your marriage under wizarding law.

"The first thing you must understand is that this marriage is a binding contract which, once made, cannot be unmade except in certain, ministry granted circumstance. I am certain, however, that this is not a decision you both took lightly. Once the ceremony has been completed you will have until midnight to finalise the bond." He smiled warmly at them once again. Severus gave no clue that he was listening except for his unfaltering gaze, Hermione took a quick glance sideways and then returned her gaze to her hands, he fingers which knotted and unknotted themselves repeatedly. Perhaps it was not too much to hope that at the final hurdle her Gryffindor courage would fail her. Perhaps she would, after all this, be too cowardly to fulfil her own plots and plans. Severus waited.

"Next you must be given to understand that, under the new ministry law, you are expected to produce at least one pregnancy within the first year of your marriage, and at least one child within the first two. Should no pregnancy be forthcoming within your first year, or should you fail to produce a live child within your first two years, you will be placed under marital aid. That is to say that you will be required to submit to regular meetings with both health professionals and marital councillors and any other persons whom the ministry sees fit until such a child is produced, and then until the child is of proper school age, that is to say 5 years old, you will be assigned a family liaison officer, who will check that there are no underlying problems within the family which might result in the child's stunted growth and development into a member of the magical community." He paused, as if to let this sink in.

"if no pregnancy is forthcoming even after Ministry intervention, or medical professionals deem either of both of you to be infertile, the ministry will make case by case judgement as to whether the circumstances warrant the reversal of the marriage contract so that one of you may remarry and thus go on to produce children." Hermione sniffed lightly, Severus glanced at her and saw tears rolling down her cheeks. Without thinking further than playing the part that was expected of him, he reached out and took her hand. Their eyes locked as she looked up at him in surprise. He wasn't entirely certain what made him do it, but he tried his very hardest to smile reassuringly at her.

"now, the time, by my clock is 10.15, Miss Granger, I am sure you will want the remaining time to make yourself every bit the blushing bride you deserve to be, and Mr Snape, I am sure you wish to be in contact with your witnesses." He said this as if he knew that Severus had never planned on having witnesses. Hermione rose and followed the official out of the room, Severus rose to follow but found a strong hand pushing his shoulder back down.

The door shut and the hand released his shoulder, Minerva stood before him, her arms folded and her face set to her strictest teacher glare. "Severus Snape, I know full well you meant to be long gone by today, but something has held you back and I think you'd do well to listen to that instinct." He didn't look at her, so she placed a hand beneath his chin and forced his eyes to hers. "you listen well to me, now, young man. She's a good girl, and she feels bad enough about this situation as it is without you making her feel worse. This is not her fault. The ministry has forced her hand in this as much as it has forced yours, so you're going to get yourself out of this chair, get yourself into a decent set of robes, and you're going to marry Hermione Granger. What's more, you're going to smile while you do it, and you're going to tell her that she looks beautiful and all the other lovely things a bride deserves to hear on her wedding day. I will sort out your witnesses, I'll sort out your rings, I'll sort out everything else, but mark my words, Severus, friend or no, Albus' bloody promise or no, you hurt her and you won't know what's hit you when I come after you. Got it?" He nodded a little numbly. He wasn't quite certain what it was about Minerva but when she wanted to she could make him feel like the naughty school boy he had once been, sneaking into the library after dark with his stubby candle and a bag to carry the books.

-#x#-

Hermione was ready to go. She had tamed her hair, she had done her make-up, she had even transfigured an old set of robes into a wedding dress, one she hoped he would like, or at least not mind. Now, as she looked herself over one last time in the mirror, she knew that this was it. This was the moment when everything she had ever learnt from a book became completely irrelevant, because there was nothing; absolutely nothing she could read that would ever tell her how to successfully live her life as Mrs Snape.

She felt vaguely nauseous. She had known, as soon as she had seen him in the ministry that day, as soon as she had sparred with him and he had stormed out, she had known that she would marry him and yet now that it was finally upon her it all seemed so petty. She was marrying him, why? Because she wanted to prove that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor could live together without killing each other? Because she saw him as some sort of challenge, a lion to be tamed? Because she didn't want to return to the muggle world that held nothing for her, and he was her only chance at staying and being reasonably happy?

A knock at the door brought her back from her thoughts. She opened it cautiously. Ginny stood there, wearing a simple yet elegant off white dress, little lily squirming in her arms, tiny white flowers woven into her hair. Tears once again tracked down her cheeks as she opened the door wider to admit her friend. Ginny released the toddler, who immediately busied herself with trying on the various bits of jewellery Hermione had neglected to return to the box.

"Oh 'Mione," Ginny hugged the bride close, hope against silent hope that she would be able to offer as much comfort as her friend, almost sister would need. "Don't cry, sweet," she hushed, "you'll ruin your make-up." She pulled back to see Hermione's faint, watery smile as her humour won out. She surveyed the dress at arms length, taking in every detail. "you're so beautiful, 'Mione, he's lucky to be getting someone as wonderful as you and if he's too stupid to see that then by Merlin he's a bigger twat that Harry always says he is." That said, she silently fixed the slightly smudged eyeliner and mascara, dabbed a final time at the cheeks and led the Now outright faint looking woman out to see her future husband.

They were almost at the main doors out into the grounds when Hermione stopped. "I'm such a fool, Ginny." She breathed, "I've forced him into this, I've trapped him, oh, how he must hate me." Ginny shook her brilliant red head.

"If he hated you, Hermione, firstly he wouldn't be standing out there beside Harry, yes, my Harry, waiting for you and secondly, he wouldn't have sent you these." She held out her hand to expose a glittering necklace with a matching bracelet. White gold holding together a string of tiny diamonds.

-#x#-

Severus wanted to be pacing again. His knees twitched in his trousers beneath his formal black dress robes. His hands repeatedly clenched and unclenched. He had no idea what was happening. He seemed to have finally taken leave of his senses after all these years. He remembered Minerva giving him a thorough dressing down, and after that it was all a bit of a blur. He vaguely recalled a very rushed visit to Gringotts, and a scrawled message thrust into the hands of a ginger haired someone, a ginger haired someone who at first he had thought to be Lily Evans, but on closer inspection had transformed into Ginny Potter. Now, here he was, in sunlight that was far too dazzling, in robes that felt far to restricting, beside a Harry Potter who looked far too smug. "Calm down, Severus, She'll be here soon."

"I know I gave Miss Granger permission to call me Severus, but you most definitely will never have that right." it was all too much for Severus to take in, and now, to make things oh so much worse, Harry Potter, wonder of the wizarding world, was laughing at him. But then he heard music, and suddenly the doors to the castle were thrown open and he saw her descend the steps.

He felt his breath catch in his throat as he beheld his bride. His; it seemed so impossible that this could be happening. She wore her hair down, but it was not bushy or unruly as it had been, it fell in delicate waves down her back. Her dress had no sleeves, not even a thin strap to hold it up, and was fitted, showing her womanly curves, accentuated by the delicate silver embroidery at her waist against the deep, beautiful green silk. She had chosen green, Slytherin green, for her wedding dress, the thought sent his mind into reels of shock., the skirt continued to hug her shape until her knees where it flared and spread into a pooling train, the beautiful green that complemented her skin and hair so much parted to reveal that traditional wedding colour, white, only it wasn't just white, there seemed to be more shimmering silvery detail all along this shifting wavering skirt.

"Don't forget to breathe, Severus can't have you passing out now, or the students will gossip." He heard the whisper but wasn't quite certain from whose lips it came, until the dark haired bane of his existence stepped forward to greet Hermione, who, he realised, was now only paces away from him. "You look so beautiful, Hermione, like a goddess from a dream or something." He recognised that it should be him telling Hermione this, and he vowed that in his own way, he would. He also understood that Potter had told her because he believed that Severus would not.

And then he had her hand in his own, and the ministry official was droning on, but Severus could not hear him, his mind seemed to have taken a vacation. Perhaps, he thought vaguely, that he truly was going insane, maybe this was what it felt like to finally loose ones marbles, as Dumbledore would have put it. He thought that actually, it wasn't that bad. He wasn't sure how he made his vows, but make them he clearly had because the next thing he heard was, "you may kiss the bride." And that dragged his mind back from its vacation.

Who may what the what? Oh, shit, they were waiting for him to kiss Hermione. Hermione was waiting for him to kiss her. He slowly leant forwards, his hand brushing a single stray curl of hair from her face and brushed his lips against hers. She tasted of hot tea and chocolate, he noticed somewhere in the part of his bran that wasn't full of blank buzz. But now they were clapping, and she was pulling away and he had to remember how to put one foot in front of the other with dignity and grace and lead his bride, his wife, back to the castle were Minerva had prepared a celebratory party. The cynical part of his brain sniggered, what a farce this was, but the spy had fooled them all again.

The Great hall was set as if for a huge ball, with red, green and white ribbons artfully decorating the walls, and gracing the tables. Hermione had to bite back a sudden rush of slightly hysterical laughter as she realised that all this had been set up for –she did a quick head count - eight people, one of whom was already sound asleep in her fathers arms. Minerva approached, she was looking from Severus to Hermione, but what ever she saw, she chose not to comment on, instead she extended her hand to Severus, who politely took it and grazed her knuckles with his lips as was expected. "congratulations." She told them sincerely; though the look on Severus' face made her think that perhaps it would have been better to say nothing. "I'm sure you know how this works, but due to the lack of guests I thought we might just gloss over the speeches. Severus I know how you hate these social things, so I've managed to shorten it down to an announcement and one dance, then you may go and skulk off as you see fit."

"I see one problem that you seem to have overlooked." They could have been discussing the weather; Minerva looked enquiringly at him, as did Hermione, who could see nothing wrong with this plan except that it resigned them to each others company much sooner than she had anticipated. "I don't dance."

"Yes, you do." Minerva told him as if she thought he was joking.

"No." He repeated in his most dangerous voice, "I don't."

"Well, I'm sure you'll pick it up quick enough." She told him in what Hermione thought to be quite a cheeky voice. Before he could raise any further objections she had turned to the small gathering and said "ladies as Gentlemen, I give you Mr & Mrs Severus & Hermione Snape for their firth dance." And the music struck up as if from the air itself.

Hermione heard Severus growl, actually growl like a feral animal as he pulled her sharply to the floor. As it turned out, he did dance. He actually danced rather well, in Hermione's opinion, at least, there was no toe stomping as there had been with Ron. She allowed herself a moment to daydream that this was actually a proper wedding and that they loved each other dearly. She leant her head against his chest and ignored the fact that he stiffened like someone had just turned his spine to solid metal, and she let herself pretend that the ministry had not forced them both into this. Finally the song came to an end and she released Severus who visibly relaxed by a jot. Unfortunately, now that they were off the dance floor, Winsdale was headed towards them. He shook Severus' hand and then bent over Hermione's, telling her how lovely she looked and then informing both of them how simply wonderful it was to preside over a true love wedding in amongst all these stiff ministry initiated weddings. It seemed that Severus didn't trust himself to speak, because he simply sneered down at the man. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't have the heart to tell him that he was mistaken in his observations.

As soon as he had left them, Severus turned to his wife. "Do you think we might leave now? Or do you wish to spend more time with Mr and Mrs Potter?" His voice was so devoid of any emotion that it gave Hermione pause for a moment. She glanced over at her friends; they were dancing, closely wrapped in each others arms, practically radiating love, as lily slept on in a conjured travel crib.

They left the room, and Hermione was surprised when Severus turned to go through the main doors and out into the grounds instead of to the dungeons where she had expected him to go. "a-are we not going back to your rooms?"

"My rooms, Miss Granger?" he questioned, then without waiting for her to reply, "I might remind you that I am no longer on the staff here at Hogwarts and therefore I have no 'rooms' of my own here."

"Yes, I know that, but Minerva gave me a set of rooms here to use while we were brewing." She put her hands on her hips, feeling defiant.

Severus smirked and shook his head. "and they called _you_ the most intelligent witch of your age. Lets see if you can add after all, shall we? Think back, Miss Granger, think back to the day after the law that now binds us was passed."

"The day we both turned up at the ministry?" She wasn't quite sure were he was going with this, but she would play along, clearly she had missed something, and that was enough for her to want to know the answer.

"Very good. Now I ask you to call to your mind what I told you that day." It was like being back in class, she quickly trawled her memories.

"You told me that you'd rather become on of the muggle homeless than marry me," it stung, now, to think that she had married him so very much against his will. That was his point? That he didn't want to marry her, she'd known that, but how was that related to his having rooms at Hogwarts? She was surprised to hear him give a short, dry laugh, as if he was himself relishing the irony.

"Before that." She trawled again, digging past his insulting declaration, and then it struck her.

"_I had no great desire to return to Hogwarts, Miss Granger. No great want to be confronted and reminded everyday of all the wounds I have caused."_ His words echoed through her mind and suddenly she felt even worse. Not only had she married him against his will, she had married him in the one place that he really didn't want to be.

"I see from the expression on your face that the knut has finally dropped." He was moving again, she hurried to catch up to him as he moved down the outer steps and began a brisk march across the lawns, Hermione almost jogging in his wake.

"w-where are we going, then?" she made herself ask.

"Home, Miss Granger. We are going home." Spinners End. Of course. They went the rest of the way across the grounds in silence. Hermione was trying to talk herself out of feeling guilty. Desperately trying to convince herself that something had made him stay, when he could have so easily vanished. After all, even today, when he had realised the day, there had been opportunities for him to go, to hide himself away, and to leave her to her fate. Finally they were outside the gates. She wondered what would happen now. Would he pull her through time and space with him to his home? Or would he simply take himself and leave her to find her own way? He knew that she knew the way; after all, she had accosted him in his very last private sanctuary already. The crack of him disapparating gave her the answer. With a sigh and a heavy heart she followed him.

-#x#-

She found the front door slightly ajar, as if he did not want to wait for her and have to face actively inviting her in, but at the same time could not bring himself to shut her out. She pushed it open, stepped through and closed it behind herself, calling on all her Gryffindor courage. Now she was here it seemed the only thought she could get into her mind was that at some point in the course of the next few hours, she would be sleeping with her teacher. She wondered if he felt the same trepidation. Probably not, surely he had slept with many women; it was probably nothing to him. Her nerves flared. What if she disappointed him? She had no experience to guide her, and this was not something she could learn from the pages of books. Not only had she stolen his freedom, but now she would give him to know that he was to spend the rest of his days in bed with a woman who would forever disappoint him.

She could almost have cried; it was only the thought that he would probably just hate her more if she did that stopped her. Still, it was too late for regrets now. She pushed open the door to the front room and found him sitting in a high backed leather chair, a bottle of firewhiskey balanced on the arm and a glass in his hand. She watched him tip the amber liquid into his mouth, watched him close his eyes to relish the burn, and then watched him pour another glass and repeat the process.

For once in her life, the books did not draw her eyes. For once in her life, Hermione was completely at a loss for what to do next. She stepped closer, and then sank down to sit on the floor, the skirt from the wedding dress she still wore pooling about her. The minutes dragged by and the level of firewhiskey in the bottle drew the half way point. Finally, she spoke, she wasn't quite certain what made her say it, but the words were out before she had really thought them. "You realise that we only have 5 hours in which to...err... finalise our bond?"

Two more glasses of firewhiskey disappeared before he spoke, a slightly strangled edge to his voice. "Yes."

"so, then, you intend to spend what, the next four and a half hours getting too drunk to actually do anything?" He was going to kill her. The words danced off her tongue even as the knowledge of her impending doom for speaking them dawned on her.

Severus sighed, and responded. "Have a drink, Miss Granger."

She found herself holding her won glass of firewhiskey. She gave it a tentative sniff, it smelt like strong honey and wood smoke. She sipped, felt the burn, and managed to control her urge to choke, and reduce it to a slight clearing of her throat. "This is strong stuff." She commented.

"Yes, Miss Granger, it is."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that." He didn't respond that time, so she added, "I mean, it's not even my name anymore is it? It makes me feel so much like a child."

"You are a child." She thought she heard a hint of despair in his voice.

"I'm not a child. I've not been a child in the eyes of the law for 5 years, and I've not been a child in my own mind for even longer." She told him, she grasped her anger and held on to it; it drove away her fear.

"Ah, but you see, it doesn't matter what you are in the eyes of the law, now what you are in your own mind. It does matter, however, that you area child here." He tapped the side of his head with a finger. "in here, you are still every bit the bushy haired eleven year old who first entered my class room and then proceeded to answer every single question like a text book come to life." He sighed again and suddenly she realised that that was why he was drinking. Not because he had failed in his promise not to marry her, not even because he hated her that much for trapping him in this, but because he felt like he'd married a child.

"What can I do?" she asked him quietly. "What can I do to make you see me as a woman?" he gave another humourless laugh; the sound cut her like a knife. He didn't answer he question. She threw back her drink, suddenly wanting to join him in his drunken oblivion, where ever it may lead.

The bottle was empty now, and Severus could feel the faintly dizzy buzz of drunkenness working through his mind. He would have liked to have been completely paralytic at this point, unfortunately his body resisted such high levels of intoxication in much the same way as it defended itself from the Imperius Curse or any other form of magic that sort to take his control away from him. She was sitting on his floor, not looking at him. She was only on her third glass. She was examining the patterns on the tumbler that still held a little of the golden liquid with a childlike fascination. Child like, of course it was child like, she was a child, just an innocent child. She didn't have any idea what she had gotten herself into. He didn't need to look at the clock to know that time was wearing on. He fought with himself. If they did nothing, if he couldn't make himself do it, she would be forced to marry someone else. He knew this; he had done his research thoroughly. He also knew exactly who that was likely to be. He couldn't let that happen. No one deserved that. Minerva had been right. He had to marry her. It wasn't her fault really. He didn't blame her. He just didn't know that he could make himself take her in his arms. Kiss her, and touch her in her innocence, and snatch that innocence away. He grasped on his one final lifeline that might just get him through this without the monumental amount of absolute soul crushing guilt. Maybe she wasn't an innocent. Maybe, just maybe. She had been with that quidditch player at the Yule ball, Karkaroff's student. No, she had been only been fourteen then, too young, much too young. She was still too young for him. Potter then? Could he remember hearing that she had dated the Boy Wonder? Skeeter had written words to that effect, he knew. It was possible. Or Weasley, she had spent so much time with that boy, yes, it had probably been with him. There was hope, perhaps he would not have to steal that from her too.

He looked at her again, trying to see her womanly shape in the dress, to remember the moment when she had walked towards him at Hogwarts and he had been unable to find a trace of student in her. He needed that, now, to be able to grasp that image of the confident woman striding towards him. "Miss," he stopped himself, calling her as a teacher to a student would not help him. "Hermione." He forced himself to say it. "Would you stand up, please?" She looked a little shocked, but she got to her feet, slowly, carefully. She swayed slightly. Clearly she was not used to the alcohol that coursed through her veins. Good. It would relax her. He surveyed her. How the dress clung to her body, how it swept down to the ground past her feet. Her feet, the image came back to him of her feet in his hands, her legs, naked in his hands, in the lab. His fingers sliding over the ointment slick skin. Perhaps he could do this after all. "Put down your glass." She did it. She didn't say a word, she just did it. He withdrew his wand from his sleeve, to her credit she did not flinch. He pointed it at her and the heavy ribbons at the back of her dress began to undo themselves. She blushed, the colour seeping across the swell of her breasts above the low neck of the corseted top.

She knew now, what he wanted her to do. She had answered it with her question. She had to prove to him that she was not a child, show him that she was a woman. Slowly she reached up, and thanking every deity she could think of for Ginny Potter's dirty mind and forward thinking. She slowly lowered the dress so that it pooled at her feet, leaving her in a black lace bodice and stockings. She met his gaze confidently, the alcohol helped. She stepped out of the green ocean at her feet, deliberately, provocatively swaying her hips as she moved forward. She felt his eyes on her, actually felt the ay they swept over her entire being, and knew that he could not bring himself to look at her face. Knew that if he did he would see once again his student.

She looked beautiful to him in her skin-tight black lace, then, he thought idly, that is the point of lingerie, to make women seem more appealing to men. She moved towards him, a gentle swish of her hips, she ran her own hands slowly over the tops of her stockings, up the bodice, as if checking for creases. He felt his blood warm. She was directly in front of him now. He reached out touch her, his hand coming to rest on her hip. She leant forwards. Tentatively brushing his lips with her won. He tasted her fear. Tasted her inexperience and swore mentally. He pushed it to the back of his mind, along with the knowledge that he would surely burn in hell, if such a place existed, for this. She made to pull back, and he knew in that moment that if it stopped now, he would not have the strength to restart it and all would be lost. He caught her wrist in his free hand, and moved his other from her hip to her hair. He kissed her this time, taking control, parting her lips with his tongue to taste her properly. She was hesitant at first, but soon mirrored his movements. She came closer too, now almost straddling him. He broke the kiss only to make a trail from her jaw down her neck and to the hollow of her collar bone meeting her shoulder. He needed her to make some noise, some movement. Needed it so that he could make himself believe that she was here of her own free will, needed it to ease his guilt at his own slowly rising erection. He bit her, a sharp nip at the very base of her neck and she gave him what he needed. A slight gasp, a moan, the tightening of the hand at his own neck. He released her wrist, still laying his kisses and gentle bites across her skin.

He felt her fingers searching to the buttons to his robes. He dreaded the fumbling of her inexpert fingers. He vanished his own robes with magic. It caused her only a second's pause, before she began to work instead upon the buttons to his shirt. His hand wandered over the lace of the bodice, as his mouth found hers once more. Severus traced the slight peak of one nipple through the delicate fabric and was rewarded with another gasp, another moan. He hands were inside his shirt now, roving over his chest. He knew she would feel the scars there. _Let her feel them_ said a harsh voice in his head, _let her know through her fingers the damaged thing she has married. Let it disgust her. Let her know there now there is no turning back_. He fought the voice down. She drew back. Her lips swollen from his kisses and her breathing ragged. She didn't look so innocent now, he was please to note.

Hermione looked straight into his eyes. Knowing that he needed her to hide her inexperience as best she could. She knew also that it was working, as she half stood over him, half sat on top of him, she could feel the heavy mass of his burgeoning arousal against her inner thigh. Slowly, in what she hoped was a teasing manner; she began to lower the straps of her bodice, stroking her fingers across her own skin as she did so. She saw a flicker of true desire in his eyes. That was what she needed. She needed to know that he was not horrified by her appearance. His hands moved up to still her own, then replace them. He slowly drew the bodice down, rolling it over itself and stroking her skin as he did so. She arched her back as he drew his hands back up her body to cup her breasts, moving his thumbs over her nipples as she moaned once again. This time when she kissed him it was not hesitant at all.

He dipped his head once more, this time taking her nipple into his mouth, toying with it, sucking it, gently rolling it between his teeth. Her hands flew to his hair once more. She could not deny that this was enjoyable to her as she had never imagined it would be. The moments she had considered what it might be like, she had thought he would simply take his own pleasure but it seemed that he was taking extra care to draw from her the tiny noises of pleasure.

When he stood up moments later, she found herself pulled flush against him once more, and noted that his shirt had disappeared, presumably the same way as his robes, for she had never finished unbuttoning it. She pressed herself closer, feeling his hard chest against her own softer one, feeling his desire pressing firmly against her stomach, still tapped in the confines of his trousers. Pulling the very last of her courage about her, she reached down to remove his belt. Before she had gotten that far, however, she felt herself being lifted. She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist and felt all the more closely his arousal, pressed as it was, now against her core. Even through the remaining layers of clothes she could feel its heat.

He promised himself that he would not hurt her. That he would, if possible, at least bring her some pleasure. If the ministry wanted children, they would be doing this more than once, after all. It was with this promise in mind that he moved them both to the bedroom. They would not have their first time together in a chair, like two randy teenagers; he fought down the thought that she was little more than a teenager as it threatened to diminish his passion. He needed to keep that. He needed to continue this game of pretending that she was not an innocent child, pretending she was... who? It didn't really matter, as long as she was not Miss Granger, his student.

By the time they hit the bed sheets, the remainder of their clothes had hit the floor. NO, she was certainly not a child. He could see that now. He kissed her again, trailing his kisses lower now, over her breasts, over her abdomen, lower still to kiss the soft flesh of her thighs, tracing his hands over her body as if he were a blind man making a map. She responded, raking her finger nails across his shoulders, tipping her head back and arching her spine. When he found her mouth again she pressed herself against him. He pulled her closer, gently nibbling her lower lip as his hands followed the path his mouth had journeyed. He did not return once he had charted her hips this time. This time he allowed his fingers to dance over her heat, curling into her hairs, grazing over her hot centre. She shifted against him, not knowing why in her won mind as the heat began to cloud her judgement and her instincts surfaced to take control. Long dexterous fingers traced her opening, gently probing, a thumb grazing the hard bud that throbbed with the touch. She drifted on the haze, felt him shift his weight to come above her and parted her legs obligingly, raising her hips to encourage him.

She tried not to tense in anticipation of the pain. She was not so innocent as to expect it not to hurt, she could only hope that the pain would not last. She gasped as he first pushed himself slowly into her. He held still as she adjusted to the feel of him, only moving again when she relaxed her grip on his shoulders, signalling that she was ready to go on. The pain was soon forgotten. The pain was soon replaced by waves of swelling pleasure, as he pushed towards her very centre. There was something though, she could feel that he was tense and she realised that he was holding back, being so gentle with her, so as not to hurt her, not to scare her. Who ever would have guessed that Severus Snape would be so... thoughtful? She almost laughed, but another wave of delicious bliss washed over her, sweeping the very thought from her mind.

He had opened his eyes, that was the problem, he had been unable to resist watching her as he entered her for the first time, and in that watching, in seeing her face momentarily contort in pain, feeling her fingernails dig into his shoulder blades and knowing exactly what he had just ruined, had brought back to him full force his current situation. He was fucking a student. He couldn't get past it, it was there, all he could see. What was worse was there was still some degree of hot happiness at the feel of her, so tight around him. He was fucking a student, and enjoying it. He had always known he was sick, but he had never imagined that even he would sink to this level of perverted gratification.

Hermione made a conscious effort to tighten her muscles around him and then release in time to his thrusts. She remembered gleaning this particular tip from a muggle magazine she had found in the bedroom of her cousin when staying there once. Even now, it seemed that the written word would not fail her after all. She also raked her nails across his shoulders and back, having noted already that he enjoyed the tingling mixture of pleasure and pain. The pace picked up, and she lost the ability to concentrate on her own actions, it seemed she had ceased to be Hermione and had become simply a seething ball of heat and passion. She could feel something building deep within her, as if it would burst forth and cause her to fragment as it did so, she fought against it at first, not entirely trusting this new sensation, not trusting that it would leave her unharmed, but then, as she felt Severus' shoulders tense and begin to tremble slightly under her fingers, she gave in and let it wash her over the edge into oblivion, gasping his name as the final waves of ecstasy tore through her body. He was ashamed to admit that it was her gasping of his name that in turn finally sent him over the edge, biting down harder than he had intended on her shoulder as he growled his own pleasure.

He rolled off her, the knowledge and guilt of what he had just done raking over him even as the aftershocks still trembled through his body. Hermione noticed the way he grimaced as he turned his back to her. She felt used, suddenly, had she just been a body to him, after all? Now that his passion was spent, he was clearly revolted that he had even touched her. Refusing the tears that sprang to her eyes; Hermione turned her own back to him and hugged the blankets about her, curling into a ball as if to protect herself from her own humiliation.

**AN: I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter. Next time we deal with the morning after the night before and Hermione makes a little discovery regarding Severus' other woman. Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora.**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thanks to everyone for reviewing. I owe you all an apology for not posting this on Friday night as I had originally intended... the problem is that just as I gave it a final read through, I was overcome by the urge to completely rewrite it. Also, you might find a few words that I'm not entirely certain are words... call it artistic licence? **

**Oh, and by the way, if you're interested to see the dress that inspired Hermione's wedding outfit, please go to **http:/ 3. bp. blogspot. com/- v5ajEnvCBis/ TVRInlwVb1I/ AAAAAAAAANE/ lf_rVoOmJLU/ s1600/ red-bridal-gown .Jpg** (obviously without the spaces). I just changed the colour and tweaked a few details...**

**WARNING: This chapter contains reference to and descriptions of abuse, bloodshed and all manner of not so pretty things. If that's not your cup of tea, you might ant to take a couple of deep breaths and skim past. Similarly, if you know that you shouldn't really be reading this, then please respect the ratings system.**

**Disclaimer: If you recognise it, it came from an imagination of JKR... **

**Chapter Seven**

In the early morning darkness, Severus felt something brush against his back. Immediately awake, he flipped over and jabbed his wand to where his assailant's neck should have been. The problem was, there was no assailant, only the girl he had married the previous afternoon, sleeping beside him. The entire previous twenty-four hours rushed over him, causing his stomach to clench withy guilt and self-loathing. He had to get away, away from her, away from this, away. He staggered out of the room, grabbing his robes from the end of the bed as he went. He pulled them on as he went down the stairs, his feet travelling without instruction. He swung into the sitting room, his foot caught in something and he found himself on the floor. The wand was out again, expecting an ambush, but none came, a slither of moonlight through a gap in the curtains illuminated the green silk. His feet tangled in her wedding dress, still where it had been so carelessly abandoned. He felt bile rise in his throat and forced it down. As soon as his feet were freed he was off again, into the kitchen, through the magically concealed door and flying down the stone steps to his private lab. The door at the bottom of the stairs slid back to admit him and then slid back.

As soon as the door was closed and sealed behind him, he went to his knees. Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stem the flow if images before him. He could see her, this innocent child, before him, slowly trailing her fingers over the black lace. He had broken that. He had stolen it, her innocence. The bile rose again and this time he didn't stop it, instead moved forwards, feeling the frigid stone beneath his hands, grounding him as he retched. In all his years of service to the Dark Lord, of all the despicable, disgusting things he had done, he had never harmed a child, never stolen anything so precious. She was tainted now, tainted by him, by his filthy desires. He retched again, but there was nothing to bring up.

He tried to force the images that flashed before his eyes away. Tried to draw up the walls that had kept his secrets for so many years, but she assaulted his senses, he could taste her delicate flesh once again and with it came the knowledge that she cold not have wanted this, she could not have been prepared. She hadn't had a choice; she had been forced into this marriage by the ministry, and then forced into his bed, he chocked again. He had not realised just how much of a monster he really was, until she had come, to prove it to him, to show him exactly what he was capable of.

Now it wasn't just images of her that assailed him, he could see others too. Things he hadn't let himself think of in years were suddenly at the front of his mind. He saw the Dark Lord, clear as if he knelt before him once again, he heard the laughter, that high, cruel laughter and he saw the blood, tracking across the floor, he could all but feel it beneath his fingers, clenched now, against the stone. He could hear the screaming, the begging, the pleading. He could see the bodies, battered, blackened and bruised. He anted to run, but he couldn't move, he let it all wash over him.

This wasn't the worst, he knew this pattern, and he knew what was coming. Every death weighed down upon him, his arms folded, bringing his entire body into contact with the floor. He could hear the whisper, that horrid hissing whisper that made ever hear on his body stand on end, made his very blood want to recoil away, _"Severus, our newest comrade." _ He felt those icy fingers as they brushed the hair from his pale face, it would have been a kind, intimate gesture, he supposed it was meant to be such. _"Severus, I have a gift for you." _ He shuddered, couldn't stop it, even the memory made his blood run cold. _"Severus, you have been so helpful, you have worked so hard. Lord Voldemort is pleased with you, Severus, And Lord Voldemort rewards those who please him." _ How the Dark Lord had loved to speak his name, had never given up the opportunity to roll it across his tongue, maybe it was the hissing sound of the S at the beginning and end.

The room dissolved around him and he was there again, kneeling before the Dark Lord, flattering, simpering, and kissing his hem. Wanting nothing more than to gargle with acid to clean his mouth. He had been brought here when they had found a traitor. The irony. They were always brought to him. Sometimes he had been allowed to be alone with them, and dispatched them quickly, with a poison so strong he doubted they knew they had taken it before it took effect. Other times he had had an audience, had had to draw it out, had had to seem to enjoy this torture, this pain, and the way they called to him, begged him to stop, to make it stop. This time, though, this time had been different, this had been his first. This had been his twenty-first birthday present from the Dark Lord. His reward for his faithful service, he had almost laughed aloud. They had all been there. His entire inner circle. The dark Lord on a dais, on a throne, over seeing it all. He had known the man before him, a fool, who had come to the service with the express intention of drawing people away, and bringing the Dark Lords plans to Russia, where another self named Lord awaited, wanting to seal the power. He had known him; he had called him friend more than once. _"Go ahead, Severus, I know you have a creative mind, Let me see the extent of your... creativity."_ He had not known what to do. He had barely been a week in Dumbledore's service. He was still reeling from the knowledge that Lily, his beautiful sainted Lily, was pregnant, was carrying the child of his enemy. Still recovering from the knowledge that the Dark Lord thought the prophecy, the prophecy he had delivered, might refer to this child. That had been his fault, why had he drawn attention to them? Why hadn't he held his tongue when Lucius had asked him who he knew that was due a baby at the implied time? Why hadn't he stopped Pettigrew from telling the Dark Lord that it was indeed a boy that Lily held inside of her?

The rage and self-loathing had reined his mind then as well. He had fired off the curses at this man, as if he would have used them to punish himself. He had used all his skill as a wizard to have this man, the captured spy, writhing before him, curling and clenching and bucking in so much pain that to scream out was nothing. That no shriek could express this pain. The blood had flowed then, swirling like oil as it began to rain. Still it went on, still there was no respite. Still the body twitched, still he knew there was life, and so something to pour this punishment on, a poor substitute for his own body. Then he had been called away, leaving this man, this body, for the others to play. How the Dark Lord had praised him, how pleased he had been with his faithful servant. The screams had echoed across the night to him, piercing him like knives as now, there were others, not just the traitor for them to have their fun with. Muggles, mudbloods, the Dark Lord always provided. The screaming and the laughter, until finally there was a heap of bodies, and blood stained the world red. Finally, Severus was allowed to go.

But to leave was no solace, for now he must report to his other master. Still soaked in the blood of the dead, the aftershocks of the powerful curses he had used still roving his body. He must go and relive it again, in words this time. He had to bear the sympathy, the half hidden horror, as he told of what he had done, first in full to the man who had promised to protect his Lily, and then, a slightly edited, less detailed version, to a whole room of people. A room full of people who would start to whisper, only a few days down the line, about how little effect the bloodshed had upon him. About how easily he spoke of the killings, the slaughter. About how he seemed to come out of it with no regret. Little did they know that the only way he could deal with it was to force it down, to bury it deep inside himself and refuse to examine the hurt, the pain. The only thing that kept him going back was the thought that like this, he was protecting her, his wonderful, marvellous Lily, who had betrayed him by marrying Potter, and who despised him for a moment of teenage humiliation, turned to anger.

Then had come the ultimate betrayal. He had failed, and Dumbledore had broken his promise to protect them. He had felt the mark searing, like a thousand shards of glass beneath his skin as Lord Voldemort met his downfall, had known that he was free. He had been happy, to think it now, he had been so happy that it was over, that he was free. But the Dumbledore had told him, told him that Lily, his Lily, was dead. His whole world had shattered. _"But, fear not, Severus, the boy lives."_ That's what he had been told, as if it mattered not that Lily had died, as if she could just be cast aside, that he should not mourn her, because her son lived.

But now the memories of Lily danced before him, a comfort to him, even now, her gentle hands, brushing the hair from his face, when they were only twelve, thirteen, before Potter had stolen her from him. The way she had laughed, the way she had danced and sung and let him bask in her light. It was only as these images slowly faded from his mind, that he realised his control was coming back. He felt the pain of the sold stones beneath him, biting through the fabric of his hastily donned robes. Felt the half numb, half pain in his wrists, his knees. Knew he had to move. He pushed himself up to sit against the wall; his mind blissfully blank. He could fight it all with this blankness.

He didn't know how many hours had passed, there were no windows down here to let in the sunlight, and his watch was still upstairs. With her. The thought almost triggered off another wave, but he fought it back, locking everything away. He wouldn't succumb again.

Severus pulled himself to his feet, crossed the room and opened the door on the far wall. Rows of shelves lined this tiny room. Each shelf held stacks of letters, piles of little trinkets, and finally, photographs. Every memory he had of Lily Evans. Not Lily Potter. He hadn't got a single thing from after her marriage. He hadn't got a single thing form after their sixth year. This was his true sanctuary. A place where he could safely sink into his handful of happy memories, a place where he could use these happy memories, memories of her as a soothing balm for his mind.

He took down his favourite photograph. The last photograph. The summer after their fifth year. The last time she had ever spoken to him. She stood in her pretty dress, a flower in her hair, swinging her arms and looking a little embarrassed, and a little bored. He had begged her, outright begged her, for this photograph. She had told him never to speak to her again, and he had seen her, sitting in their spot, below their tree and he had gone over, tried to convince her to forgive him, told her how truly sorry he was. She had rebuffed him, but she had consented to his final plea, to give him this photo, something that he could remember her by.

"Oh, Lily." He sighed, now, holding the photograph so delicately in his fingers, "what am I to do?" he asked this piece of paper, this picture. To him, it was more than that, looking into her eyes in this image; he could almost make himself believe that she was listening to him. "What am I to do, with this child that I have married? How am I to make up for this? How am I to absolve myself of this latest crime?" He received no answer. He didn't expect one. It made him feel better though, to speak aloud, to hear the problem logically explained to the air. "How am I to protect her from the monster that lives within me?" That was just it. He would protect her, he would give her everything to keep her comfortable, give her everything, except himself. He would keep his distance from her. He would protect her, from himself. He would exercise better self control. He would not touch her. He would not so much as brush against her. That was it. That was what he would do. Maybe, in the very distant future, she would find it in her gracious self to forgive him his slip, if he never slipped again.

-#x#-

Hermione woke to find sunlight streaming into the room, and no Severus beside her. She didn't know whether to feel relived or disappointed. She sat up slowly, testing the dull ache that throbbed between her legs. Time to explore and hopefully locate the bathroom. As it happened, the door to the bathroom was straight across the hall and so she didn't have to explore that much after all. It was nothing special, this bathroom. A rather battered looking tub stood against one wall, an ancient looking shower suspended above it. The floor was covered in mint green tiles, and was cold under foot. She sighed; she would just have to learn to live with it. After making use of the facilities, Hermione darted back across the hall into the bedroom, discovering that a large trunk with all her clothes in had appeared at the foot of the bed. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a loose fitting Jumper and headed down stairs, her stomach squirming uncomfortably at the thought of seeing him, of having to speak to him.

She needn't have worried. Both the sitting room and the kitchen were as deserted as the bedroom and bathroom had been. She put the kettle on, made herself a cup of strong tea and then began to search the cupboards for something to eat for breakfast. The first cupboard she opened contained a very mismatched collection of plates, bowls and cups. The next contained numerous little bottles that, although none were labelled, she was fairly certain contained potions. The next contained little boxes of dried flowers, leaves and other bits and pieces of vegetation. The fourth contained yet more unlabelled bottles, this time empty. The final cupboard on this level contained the plumbing for the sink and a meagre collection of magical cleaning products. She rose up and tried the wall mounted cupboards. This time she found jars; every cupboard was neatly stacked with jars, and every single one contained something slimy looking (and in some instances, wriggly) that she definitely didn't think she'd like to eat. So, she sighed inwardly, there is no food. He keeps his kitchen cupboards well stocked with potions ingredients. Typical.

She sipped her tea more slowly this time. Surely there had to be food in the house. After all, she had found the tea bags, milk (with a chilling charm) and sugar on the side, almost as if waiting for her. It wasn't possible that he was surviving purely on tea and potions. Wait, this was Severus Snape, Potions master and man of mystery. He probably could survive on tea and potions. She shook her head; that was a ridiculous thought. It was about this time that she spotted a curtained alcove by the back door. It covered a fridge. She suddenly felt very silly. The fridge contained bacon, eggs, a bag of apples, a lettuce, some tomatoes, a handful of mushrooms, a jar a mayo and half a loaf of bread, and more jars of slippery looking somethings. She pulled out the eggs, the bacon and a tomato. If she could just find a frying pan, she'd be in business. She smiled as Ron's words floated back through the air "_honestly, Hermione, are you a witch or not?" _ A flick of her wand and an omelette landed on her plate. Quick, simple and no scrubbing stubborn cooked egg off the frying pan. She found cutlery in the drawer over the plates' cupboard and set about demolishing her breakfast.

It was only when she'd finished that she began to wonder where her husband was. She didn't remember seeing any more doors than the ones she'd already been through, and he didn't seem the type to leave her alone in his house so soon. She shrugged it off. If last night was anything to go by, she wasn't certain she wanted to run into him anyway. She did, however, want to have a good look at his book shelves.

Half an hour later found Hermione sitting comfortably in the chair Severus had sat in the night before, her legs swung casually over the arm and a book resting open against her knees. He had so many old books here, she could have spent weeks, maybe even months and not have to read a book she'd read before. She had noticed with interested, when she had been here for the first time that every book was doubled. Now she realised that one book was an original, and the second was a spelled copy, all covered in Severus' notes. Memories of his old potions text book which had fallen into Harry's hands flitted in her memory, and she vowed that she would read every single one of these annotated books, but only after reading the originals. She wanted to see what he disagreed with, see how he had adapted things, and, through that, hopefully learn something of how his mind worked. She stayed that way for many hours, just reading, comfortable because she had a chair and a book and that left no space in her consciousness to be uncomfortable.

Her stomach growling and the need for more light was what finally raised her. She drew the curtains over the windows and lit the electric lamp. She didn't know why but it seemed so strange to her that there should be electricity in this house. His house. Their house, she told herself firmly, they were married; it was their house now. She wondered then where he was, for the first time since breakfast, for even if he had been out earlier, surely he would not have spent the entire day away. Perhaps he had another house, one that no one knew about. She mused on this as she made her way into the kitchen and set about making herself some dinner, though what dinner was going to be she hadn't quite decided. Should she make him something too? That was what wives generally did after all. No. She didn't even know if he was in or out, or what time he would be back. If he didn't have the common courtesy to leave her a note saying he'd gone out or what ever then she would not feel obliged to prepare anything for him. She was just getting herself worked up into a proper huff of indignation, when the wall beside the door to the front room split open, revealing the very man she had been mentally complaining about. Hermione gave a shout of surprise and dropped the eggs she had been weighing in her hand.

Severus rolled his eyes, muttered something clearly disparaging under his breath and flicked his wand at the mess. He then bent down to the cupboard with the full potions bottles, opened it and withdrew a small bottle of bright pink potion. He then closed it, and gave the edge without a handle a gentle push. The door opened, as if a magnet had been released, and Hermione saw neat rows of jars, boxes, cans and packets, all containing things that looked very much edible. "You doubled up the cupboards." She stated, it was so simple. Why hadn't she thought to check for that?

"Evidently." Calm, bordering on condescending. His eyes moved over the old baggy sweater, and down the denim clad legs. He couldn't help himself. This all just seemed as a strange dream, no, check that, a strange nightmare, to him. How was it that she could stand there looking so perfectly at home in his kitchen? He pushed past the thought. She was here; he would have to deal with it. "Take this. Did you have something specific in mind for dinner?" He tossed the bottle at her, she caught it automatically. Why did she look so surprised that he was being polite? Had his reputation at the school really been so low as to deny him even simple manners? Of course it had, he was the greasy dungeon bat. He doubted they even believed he could say please or thank you without spontaneous combustion resulting. She shook her head. He shrugged his shoulders and pulled out a packet of pasta. "Sit down, recover from your shock." He said, the sarcasm biting back into his voice as an automatic defence. "It won't work with you just looking at it , you know, you have to drink it."

He went to the fridge and removed a few more things as she skirted around him and sank into the chair at the table. Soon he was chopping and slicing and tipping things into a pan (a pan that had come out of the reverse side of the plates cupboard, she stored the information away for later) He set a spoon to stirring the pan automatically, she was almost hypnotised watching it turn seven times clockwise, then seven times back. She remembered watching him make coffee _"Do you do everything with so much regimented precision?" _ Yes, clearly he did. He was bringing the pasta to the boil now, one hand on the heat control, the other hovering above the pan with a pinch of herbs. As the bubbles formed he released the pinch and reduced the heat in one fluid motion.

"Shouldn't the herbs go in the sauce?" She heard herself ask. She couldn't help it; the question had just risen from her lips before she'd had a chance to stop it, to sallow her automatic search for more information that he found so annoying.

"no." He told her. She sighed with relief; he wasn't going to hex her for being once again the impertinent little girl who had to question everything. After a moment he added, "If you add herbs to the sauce they will overpower the natural sweet of the tomatoes and the natural salt of the bacon, as well as leaving a slightly grainy consistency. Added to the pasta, just as the water boils, they are dispersed evenly through it and their flavours are absorbed enough to complement the flavours of the sauce, without overwhelming them, and you retain the smooth texture." She hadn't noticed just how many similarities there were between cookery and potions until she heard him talk of pasta and sauce as if back in the classroom.

It arrived at the table steaming hot and smelling so good it made Hermione's mouth water. She managed to politely thank him before diving in with gusto. He was right about the taste. The sweetness of the tomatoes mingled deliciously with the contrast of the bacon, and only when that was over did you realise there was a backdrop of mint, and sage, and oregano bursting behind it all. "_The subtle science and exact art of potion-making"_. The words he had spoken in her very first potions lesson echoed through her mind. Apparently there was a subtle science and/or an exact art to making bloody gorgeous pasta too. She tried not to just wolf it down in an undignified manner. She also tried not to look too impressed. She distinctly remembered asking her aunt once why her uncle never cooked dinner. _"Men don't cook, dear, because men can't cook. They just can't." _ Well, this certainly blew that theory out of the water.

Why was she looking at him like that? Severus tried to ignore it as he took another forkful of food to his mouth. Why was she looking at him with that strange half smile as if he had just done something completely unprecedented, something astonishing? All he had done was cook pasta. It wasn't rocket science. It wasn't even close. He fought the urge to reach into her mind. To see what she was thinking, to know what it was that made her look at him in such a strange way. IT was almost as if she were trying to figure something out. He raised his own mental guard, not that he ever fully dropped it. He shut himself of completely and finished his meal.

**AN: Wow, that took a lot of writing... still not entirely satisfied, but I think I got the basic points across... I'm off to collapse in a heap before starting round 8. Enjoy... Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Apologies for the delay in the update. We've had the plague – okay, not quite the plague, it's a virus that sends your temperature through the roof and makes your head feel like it's stuffed full of cotton wool. **

**To add to the apologies, also, when I came back to the land of the thinking, I re read the story plan I'd written, and realised that I've got a gap of about 18 months between Chapter 15 and the end (because I got distracted whilst writing it and then – idiot that I am – forgot that it wasn't finished) and at present I'm struggling to remember what I was going to fill that gap with – so keep your fingers crossed that it comes back to me...**

**As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed, story alerted or favourited.**

**WARNING: Mature readers only. Please respect the ratings system.**

**Disclaimer: Eternal thanks to JKR for allowing me, and all the other fanfic writers out there to play with her toys...**

**Chapter Eight**

Hermione woke as usual to a sunlit room and an empty bed. Two weeks had passed since her wedding, and that strange evening when Severus and made her pasta, and talked about it like a potion, had talked to her so calmly, as if nothing had ever passed between them. Those two weeks had been... well, she couldn't really complain. It seemed she only need hint that there was something she wanted and he set it before her. It was a little disconcerting, actually, because other than appearing to suddenly fulfil her requests, he acted as if she didn't exist.

She got herself up, washed, dressed and went down stairs to find breakfast on the table, under a warming and preservation charm, along with a cup of tea and a glass of orange juice. Exactly as there was every morning. He, of course, was no where to be found. Probably hiding down in his lab, again, she mused. She had guessed that was what was behind the hidden door, based on the fact that when he did occasionally come up he had the lingering fumes from the cauldrons hovering around him, clinging to his clothes. Normally after breakfast she would have picked up the book she had set down the previous evening, but today she didn't want to read. Never before in her life had she reached a point where she had read so much, didn't she want to read more. As if in answer to her unasked question of what to do, she spotted a piece of parchment on top of her book.

_I notice you haven't been out of the house much in the last two weeks. I thought perhaps you might enjoy a visit with Ginerva Potter. She is expecting you for lunch._

Should she be annoyed that he had even presumed to arrange her social schedule, or happy that she would be spending a day out of the house, with her friend? She glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven. She would be annoyed at him later. Right now, she just wanted to get out of the house.

She arrived, a full half hour later, outside number twelve Grimmauld Place. Breathing in the open air, she just stood for a while, enjoying the feel of the sunlight on her skin, and the sound of the birds in the trees. She hadn't even touched the knocker when the door was flung open by a somewhat harassed looking Ginny. "Oh, Hermione, you came." Ginny found the energy to smile and hug her friend, then, "Well, come on in, don't mind the chaos." Hermione stepped over a wooden train track that seemed to have taken over the hall, carefully avoiding the miniature Hogwarts Express that puffed away, lying on its side at the foot of the stairs. They went into the kitchen, were Lily sat at the table with Creature, doing a children's jigsaw puzzles.

"Hello, Lily" Hermione smiled at the small girl, who grinned back and then returned quickly to her puzzle. "Hello, creature." She smiled at the old house elf too, remembering the assistance he had given them when they had been hunting the horcrux's.

He bowed to her, with a polite "Miss." But had soon returned to the task at hand. "Where do you think this piece fits, Miss Lily?"

"He's brilliant with kids." Ginny's surprise was still evident in her voice. "Tea?" At her question, Creature, without really looking up, made as if to pour tea from an invisible pot and clapped his hands together. A tray of tea and biscuits appeared at the other end of the table. "Thanks, Creature." She poured the tea between two cups and added milk to both, sugar to one. Pushing the one without sugar towards Hermione she said "I wasn't quite sure what to think when I got an owl from him."

There was no reason for Hermione to ask who 'him' was. "Oh?" She sipped her tea, trying to avoid saying anything.

"yeah, I mean, if you'd owled to say you wanted to get out of the house, I could understand that, or if he'd owled saying he wanted you out of the house, I could understand that too, no offence." Hermione shook her head to show that none was taken. "But the owl I got, it sounded almost like he was concerned because you haven't left the house since you got married." Hermione sipped her tea again, trying to work out what she was supposed to say. "Don't get me wrong, 'Mione, I completely understand why a newly married couple might not want to leave the house for a couple of weeks, but I thought it was just the law that had you two walking down the aisle."

Hermione felt her cheeks burn and avoided looking at her red-head friend. "It was." She told her.

Ginny pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and looked closely at her friend. "Okay, Mrs Snape, what exactly is going on?"

"I don't really know." She confessed after a moment of mulling the answer over in her mind. "But it's got to change." She was met with raised eyebrows and took that as indicator that she should elaborate. "He's not doing anything wrong, per se, I mean, I couldn't complain about anything really. He treats me like a princess... or an invalid" she added as an after thought. "Let me take you through my day for the last two weeks. I wake up, on my own, I get dressed, I go down stairs and breakfast's on the table waiting for me. He's got everything charmed so it automatically clears up, if I want to take a bath I only have to so much as think it and there's oils and lotions and salts and all sorts waiting for me, and the bath's already running at the perfect temperature. He leaves which ever book I was reading the day before out ready. Work gave me a month off to 'adjust' to married life, and being as it's the MOM, you know what they really want us to do for a whole month." She took a deep breath and plunged on, "I don't see him except when he appears to cook dinner, and then he vanishes of down into his lab again. Honestly, I'd doubt he even came to bed if I hadn't woken up in the night a couple of times and found him there."

"So, basically, you're bored out of your mind, and the two of you don't even," she shot a glance down the table at her daughter, "you know."

Blushing almost scarlet Hermione told her, "Absolutely not. We did, once, on the night we married, obviously, because we had to."

"What was it like?" Ginny interrupted with a grin that sent Hermione straight back to fifth and sixth year Hogwarts, in the girls' dorms.

"Gin, you've got a kid, you know what it's like."

"I meant, what it's like with him?" Ginny was still grinning and now Hermione was blushing more than ever.

"It was... good." The uncertainty of whether this was the correct answer crept into her voice.

"You don't sound that convinced. You're allowed to say he was rubbish if he was, he's not here to hear you and get all offended."

"No, he wasn't rubbish. It was good, honestly, it's just that," She paused, not sure how to tell Ginny what was playing on her mind, or even if she should be telling her, "well, after he," it was her turn to shoot a quick glance down the table, "you know, he looked at me like I was something dirty or horrid. I think he really must hate me, or I was the rubbish one."

"Mione, if he reached completion, you weren't doing anything wrong." Ginny reassured her, kind of. "And if he really hated you, he would have found a way out of marrying you. There's got to be more to it than that." She fell into a thoughtful silence.

Hermione began to go over the details of her wedding night for the first time since it had happened. He had offered her a drink. She had asked him not to call her 'Miss Granger' because it made her feel like a child and he had said... "He thinks I'm a child." She said in a slightly astounded whisper.

"Excuse me?"

"That night, we went back to Spinners End and he offered me a drink, fire whiskey, because that's what he was drinking. He called me 'Miss Granger' and I asked him not to because it made me feel like a child and he said 'You are a child.'" the words came out all in a rush. "He wasn't disgusted with me, at all," She continued on, as realisation lifted a huge weight from her shoulders, "He was disgusted with himself because we'd just had sex, sorry," She'd forgotten about the young ears at the other end of the table, "we'd just done it, but he'd said earlier that to him I was, what was it? Oh yeah," she put on her potions-master-impressions voice, "' still every bit the bushy haired eleven year old who first entered my class room and then proceeded to answer every single question like a text book come to life.'"

"He said that." Ginny sounded indignant on Hermione's behalf, but Hermione was grinning almost ecstatically; she hadn't failed, he wasn't horrified by her. "He said those exact words? Jeeze, someone needs to teach him some better chat up lines."

"No, Ginny, don't you see? This means he wasn't looking at _me_ with disgust. This means that he's probably punishing himself for some crime that he hasn't actually committed. This means that I know exactly what I need to do."

-#X#-

Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor of the front room surrounded by bits of parchment. She was trying to work out a plan to stop Severus from seeing her as a child, and to seize a bit of independence at the same time. She figured that the would go together quite well; once she had gotten herself some independence, he would see that she could take care of herself and wasn't a child that needed him to run after her, and once she had proved this, he would hopefully trust her to do more and more things for herself. In fact, she theorised that she should probably be doing as much as she could to make his life easier, after all, he hadn't wanted this marriage but he had done it anyway. She had also decided that she would make an effort to spend time with him, getting to know him and therefore getting to know how best to make his life easier.

The problem was how to entice him out of his lab? The only solution she could think of was to stop him from going down there in the first place, or at least delay him. She usually got up at 8.30, this, she decided, was too late as he was already gone when she woke up. She would set an alarm for 7, and place a silencing charm over his side of the bed so it didn't disturb him. She would get up before him and get the breakfast, and then they could sit together while they ate and talk.

That evening Hermione set the dusty old alarm clock she had found in a cupboard, she placed a careful silencing charm onto Severus' side of the bed, and then, feeling satisfied that tomorrow she could set her plan into action, went to sleep.

The next morning when Hermione was awoken by the harsh beep of the clock, she found herself quite alone in the bed. She went down the stairs still in her pyjamas to see if he was still eating breakfast, but the kitchen was just as it always was; empty, with her breakfast on the table. She looked at the clock to check the alarm had gone off at the right time. It was 7.05. Hermione swore, which was definitely something she did very often. Tomorrow she would set her alarm for 6.30, surely he couldn't be getting up before then, he only came to bed after midnight.

Once she was dressed, had eaten her breakfast and had scowled at the plate which cleaned itself and put itself away. Hermione was struck by another idea. He always came up at the same time each day to make the dinner. She would make the dinner before he came up, it was simple. It was genius. It was very nearly foolproof.

-#X#-

Severus sat in the lab drinking cup after cup of coffee, he needed the caffeine. When he had finally gone to bed last night, at just past 2am, he had noticed the old muggle alarm clock on Hermione's bedside table. He wasn't entirely certain why she had suddenly decided that she needed to be up earlier, but he was sure it couldn't be anything good for him to be there with her. He had checked the time she had set it for, and, finding it to be about half an hour before he usually got up himself, had resolved to get up earlier so that he still had his hour to get ready and have a peaceful breakfast. He just couldn't handle incessant chatter and questions that early in the morning. He had also noted her silencing spell as he had slipped beneath the covers, the way that suddenly all the usual noises, like her gentle snoring, weren't there anymore. There were many reasons that he could think of that someone would want to wake up earlier than him, and make sure he couldn't hear them doing so. None of them appealed to his survival instincts (which others seemed to think was all paranoia). He cancelled the charm and replaced it with a clever one of his own invention to ensure that he woke up at the right time.

Needless to say this had worked. He had had his breakfast in quiet solitude and just as he had entered the lab he had heard her alarm clock screeching. It was strange how missing only that single hour of sleep could leave his body feeling so drained. It was obviously just the break in his routine. If she persisted then he would soon adjust. Just now, however, he definitely needed caffeine. He had finished brewing early this afternoon, so he just sat, reading, drinking coffee, waiting for the clock to show him that it was time to cook the dinner.

The time came soon enough. Severus book marked his book, drained his cup, stood up and stretched. He thought perhaps he would do chicken tonight, yes, chicken in a red wine sauce, maybe some roast potatoes, he could almost smell it already. Wait, he _could_ smell something. Severus sniffed where he stood, half way up the stairs to the kitchen. It smelt like... tomatoes, and cheese, and herbs, lots of herbs. What on earth was she doing?

He pushed the door open just as she set the plates down on the table, lasagne, she'd made lasagne. She was smiling at him. Why was she always smiling at him? Didn't she know all the horrid things he'd done? Of course she did, she wasn't stupid, and she certainly wasn't illiterate. He said nothing, just looked from the plates of steaming food to her and back again. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it." She told him. He still didn't say anything, but something made him go over and sit down.

She looked so pleased with herself, foolish child, as she sat down opposite him. She was clearly waiting for him to try her food and, no doubt, expecting him to tell her how wonderful it was and how grateful he was that she had taken it upon herself to cook. Well, she'd obviously got him confused with all those other teachers that used to fawn over her brilliance and pay homage to her intelligence all the time. He tentatively took a very small forkful of the meal and tasted it. To his surprise, it wasn't inedible, not that he had any intention of telling her that. AS son as he had taken that tiny bite she as beaming at him again.

"So," oh, gods, she wanted to talk. Of course she wanted to talk, "are you brewing anything special down there?"

"yes." He took another bite so he didn't have to say further, it was definitely edible.

Hermione waited a moment to see if he would elaborate on his own, then internally rolled her eyes. "Normally, if someone asks about something you're working on, it's because they want you to tell them about it." She told him, calmly, knowing that she was pushing her luck.

"I know." He told her. Why was she pushing this? They hadn't had anything even resembling a proper conversation since the day after their wedding.

"So, are you going to tell me about it?" she prompted after another moment of silence.

"No." Stubborn arse, Hermione thought.

"Why not?" does this girl never give up? Severus asked himself.

"Because it is none of your concern." Ooh, dangerous teacher voice. Well, shed survived six years of him teaching, and a war, she would survive this as well.

"I think it is. I'm you're wife. I live here. I should know what's going on in my own home." She gave him her reasons clearly and concisely, like a mature adult debate.

"What goes on in _my_ house, and more specifically in _my_ private lab, is _my_ business and mine alone." He was almost growling now. She really hadn't meant to annoy him. At least he was acknowledging her presence. At least he was talking to her.

"I think you mean _our_ house." She told him defiantly, and then instantly regretted it as he stood up from the table suddenly, causing his chair to fall backwards. His eyes darkening with rage as he hissed at her.

"No, Miss Granger, it is not, _our_ house. It is _my_ house. You have lived here less than five minutes, you do not know where all the doors in this house lead, hell, you don't even know where all the doors in this house are. You think that just because the ministry says we are married means you get to cal everything I have partly your own? How can that be when I, and I alone take care of the wards, the maintenance, the mortgage, the bills. I alone know every secret this house holds." He finished abruptly and stormed off back down to his lab, leaving Hermione somewhat stunned behind him.

-#X#-

The next morning when Severus got up, pleased to see that his _wife_ hadn't bothered to set her alarm this morning, he found a large and very neat stack of galleons on the kitchen table, with a note beside them.

_My half of the mortgage and bills. If you need more just let me know, or if you'd prefer it in Pounds Stirling I can arrange that. ~ H_

Severus slapped his palm to his forehead and then dragged his hand down over his face. Insufferable, stupid, bloody... _Gryffindor._ He growled to himself. He turned her note over and, summoning a quill and getting instead a biro from one of the drawers (much to his further annoyance), scrawled across the back of it.

_I do not want your bloody gold. Grow up._

He didn't feel the need to sign it. Half an hour later, he was storming around his lab, brewing on auto pilot as a thousand thoughts swirled through his mind. How had she managed to misconstrue his meaning so thoroughly? He didn't want her gold. He didn't want her anything. He just wanted her to realise that... what? What had been the point of his little rant? What's mine is mine, keep your hands off? Now who was being immature? Fuck it. He slammed a cauldron onto a stand with such force that one of the legs crumpled. Severus swore aloud this time, and kicked the cauldron for good measure.

-#X#-

Almost three weeks passed after the first evening Hermione had made the dinner. She wasn't put off by his refusal to take her gold. Nor was she put off by his declaration that she knew next to nothing about the house. Quite the opposite in fact. She had spent most of her free time since that night, and admittedly that had been significantly reduced by her return to work, scouring every inch of the house looking for hidden doors, which he had implied where there. She had also added a new layer to the wards, which he had discovered when he went out to get some new ingredients and had then been unable to get back in. He hadn't been amused. She had arrived home to see him pacing on the front step positively smoking from the ears.

Hermione continued to make the dinner (the only thing he allowed her to do), and, to her pleasant surprise, Severus continued to eat it, though not once did he thank her or tell her that it was nice. Still, she figured that if he disliked it she would have heard about it. She also continued to try to engage him in conversation while they ate. Some nights he would just ignore her, eating very quickly and then disappearing for the rest of the evening. Some nights he would answer her, albeit in one or two word answers. Most nights, however, they ended up arguing. Hermione found herself deliberately provoking these fights after a few nights of him not talking to her, just so that he would actually respond to her. She found herself almost looking forward to seeing the dark rage bubble in his eyes, almost anticipated with joy the moment when he would lean a little closer to growl at her in that soft and deadly whisper of a voice. She knew it was wrong, and she tried not to do it, but somehow, it always ended the same.

Tonight was one of those nights. Hermione had been out celebrating Ginny's Birthday earlier, and was wearing a knee length, quite tight fitting denim skirt, and a bright red top, quite low cut by her usual standards, but nothing overly revealing, it had only been lunch out at a restaurant after all. She had made steak and kidney pie for dinner. It was steaming away on the table. Severus wasn't up from the lab yet. She checked the clock on the wall; it was strange, he was usually here by now. She waited another five minutes and then placed a warming charm on the plates to keep the food hot. He'd obviously just lost track of time, or had to do something to the potion before it could be left (she still had no idea what he was working on).

A further twenty minutes later he finally emerged from the hidden door, and Hermione found herself feeling quite annoyed. They always had dinner at the same time, every night; surely he could have left her a note to say he would be late up tonight, or even sent her a message with his patronus or something over the last half hour. He sat down with out a word, or even a glance in her direction. Nothing at all to indicate that he knew he was late, even though he must know, he just must. She felt her temper rising a little bit more. "Where have you been?" she asked, a little more sharply than she intended.

He paused, his fork half way to his mouth, his eyebrows slowly rising. "The lab. You've just seen me come out of it, haven't you?" Instantly on the defensive. Severus braced himself for another of the 'conversations' that always led to them standing opposite each other and shouting.

"What are you doing down there? How come you're late?"

"Are you my mother now as well as my wife?" She knew his own temper was rising from the way his voice got lower, opposite to her won, which got higher.

"I made an effort to come home early from my friend's birthday so that I could have dinner ready for the time we always have it, and you show up half an hour later than that, and think you don't even have to give me a reason why. I'm not your house elf, you know."

"You cook one meal a day, voluntarily, and you think I treat you like a house elf?" he gave a humourless bark of laughter. "You don't know what you are talking about, as usual."

"Well I'd do more if you weren't such a control freak!" she shot at him before the words had fully been considered in her mind.

"Oh, we're resorting to name calling now, are we?" he slammed his fork down on the plate and pushed the whole, relatively untouched meal away from him. "How mature of you. Then again, why should I expect more from you? you are, after all just a child."

"I'm NOT a bloody child!" she knew shouting wasn't helping, that this would just end where it always ended, with him hissing something at her before storming off to his lab without giving her enough time to properly form a reply, but her anger at being called a child (again!) clouded her better judgement and she just snapped. "If you'd open your eyes for thirty seconds and stop wallowing in pointless self recrimination or what ever the hell you think your doing then you'd see that! I mean, maybe, just maybe, if you actually bothered to pull your head out of your –" she caught herself just in time, "lab, every now and then," she recovered quickly, "you'd realise that as well as making you one measly meal a day, I've also been trying so hard to get to know you so that I can please you and you just throw it all back in my face and treat me like a prisoner!"

"A prisoner?" he was shouting too now, and that worried her on some subconscious level, because normally he would raise his voice, sure, but he never actually properly shouted at her. "I see no bars on the windows! I see no lock on the door! You are free to come and go as you please! Just so you know, the reason I don't come out of the lab very much is to avoid things like this! Has it occurred to you that perhaps I am the prisoner? A prisoner in my own home because you can't hold your bloody tongue for five minutes! As for throwing things back in your face, all I have done since the unfortunate day we were wed is try to make your life easier. I have tiptoed around on egg shells, trying to give you your space, trying to make sure that you are not left with all the demeaning tasks so many wizards dump on their wives. My payment? You constantly in my face, not even willing to give me the half hour I do spend in the main part of my house to myself! Why do you insist on arguing with me all the time anyway?"

He turned on his heel and headed for the lab, he had his hand on the door when he heard the shout from behind him. "Because arguing with you is the only time you even recognize that I am here! And most certainly the only time you show me any form of passion!" When he spun around once more, she had her hands over her mouth and her eyes were wide as though she couldn't believe she had just said that.

"Passion?" his voice was barely above a snarl, he stalked back across the kitchen, and Hermione found herself backing up in fear, waiting for him to draw his wand and hex her into oblivion, or maybe he didn't need his wand, maybe he could just destroy her with the power of his mind through those blazing black tunnels he had for eyes. She felt the kitchen units against her back and legs, and he was still advancing on her. She swallowed, her hands still over her mouth. "you want me to show you passion?" it wasn't a question, it was a threat, a threat she felt with every cell in her body, a threat that made her mind skid to a halt and tremble with anticipation and trepidation.

He was barely two inches from her now and his eyes burned into hers. The next thing she knew both her wrists were held in one of his hands and pinned above her head and he was kissing her very roughly, but she had to admit, very passionately. She felt his teeth on her lower lip, and her eyes slid closed, not sure whether this was a good thing or a very bad thing. The hand that wasn't holding her wrists was holding firmly at her waist as he used his entire body to stop her from escaping, his mouth travelled down to her neck where he bit hard enough to make her gasp, hard enough to leave a mark.

Hermione only opened her eyes when she felt his hand move from her waist and under her top. Part of her told her she should stop this, told her she should stop him before he turned this into something else to hate himself for, but another part of her told her, it a much louder voice, that she should just go with it, and enjoy it. She heard the fabric of her top rip before it was pulled roughly off her shoulders, and she shivered a little. His mouth was moving down now, over the newly exposed skin, still nipping, leaving trail of small red marks He pushed her harder with his body, until she could feel the edge of the unit digging into her lower back, not the most comfortable, but it didn't really detract from what his mouth was currently doing through the thin fabric of her bra. She moaned, pulled a little with her wrists as she fought to free her hands, wanting to run them through his hair, or divest him of his shirt. To her surprise, he released her, his hand moving to grip the back of her neck as he moved back up towards her lips. She found herself pushing back against him, not to move him away, but to get closer to him.

It all seemed like a blur to Severus, one minute he had thought to scare her a little, shoving her back into the units, biting her hard enough to cause her pain. Then she had moaned and now she was definitely not struggling to get away. The feel of her fingers tangles in his hair, feeling her fingernails digging into his shoulder, even through his shirt, as he bit her nipple, with a little more force than was perhaps necessary but not enough to seriously hurt her. Suddenly her skirt had gone the ay of her top and her legs were around his waist as he pressed her against the one full height cupboard the room contained. He had one of his hands on her backside, the other moving her hair out of the way to give him better access to the other side of her neck, and her earlobe. Another gasped moan and she shifted her hips, rubbing him through his trousers. It was his turn to make a sound now, only he didn't moan, he growled.

His shirt was on the floor in moments, her hands dragging across his chest, playing a little with the hair there. Severus clawed at his self control, this was going to far. He refused to take her like this in the kitchen. He shouldn't even be considering going any further, but somehow he didn't want to stop. Instead he pushed gently on her thigh to get her to put her feet on the floor, giving her one more kiss, their tongues battling furiously.

Hermione wasn't sure what to think when he pulled away from her. Was he just toying with her? Was he just trying to make a point? But then he had picked her up, well, slung her unceremoniously over his shoulder, and was carrying her upstairs. Hermione, her lack of experience weighing heavily in her mind, took the opportunity to drag her nails up his back, hard. Then wished she hadn't when he growled again and nearly dropped her. Maybe she'd wait until they weren't on the stairs before she tried anything else.

Before she knew really where she was, Hermione found herself once again against a wall. Severus' hands roving over her body, His tongue and teeth teasing once more at the sensitive skin at the base of her neck. Her hands eventually managed to loose his belt, and soon, her confidence rising at the feel of his erection against her hand, managed to get his trousers down enough for him to step out of them. She made to put her hand inside his boxers but he deftly batted it away without breaking the contact between his mouth and her skin. He traced a pattern of nips, licks and kisses until he was low enough to drop to his knees. Hermione's head tilted back as she gasped again.

-#X#-

Many hours later Hermione's brain was slowly pulling itself back into a workable state as she lay against the chest of her husband. She wasn't entirely certain how they had ended up cuddled together, or when it had gotten dark, but she was certain that she liked it, a lot. Unfortunately, she also knew that she had to do something that would probably ruin the entire thing.

"Severus?" she asked quietly, half hoping that he would be asleep and wouldn't answer her. Of course, he was awake, and as soon as she spoke he pulled away from her a little, disentangling himself before he responded.

"Yes?" he sounded so stiff. Hermione found it hard to believe that not half an hour ago he had been a groaning shuddering mass of heat when now he sounded like they could be back in the classroom.

She took a deep breath, pulled her courage and the blanket a little tighter around herself and said quietly, "do you think we could maybe sit down and talk about the marriage? Tomorrow, maybe?" She felt him tense even from the other side of the bed and realised that he (in his paranoia) probably thought she meant she was going to leave, or maybe that was what he hoped, either way, she quickly clarified. "If we're going to be stuck together for the foreseeable future because of this law, then I figure we can, at very least, learn to live with each other without treading on each others toes all the time. Maybe we could, I don't know, set some ground rules or something?"

He didn't relax any. Hermione sighed inwardly, well, she had tried. Silence reigned, and she had almost given up on getting any answer at all and was trying to get some sleep instead when he finally breathed, "I don't imagine that should be too much of a problem."

Hermione fell asleep smiling that night.

**AN: Once again, many many apologies. Hopefully should get back on track now. If you've found any grammatical errors or misplaced words, blame by still somewhat cotton-woolly head... AS you can see, this chapter marks a kind of turning point in the progress of the story. Hope you enjoyed it... Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora x**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: thanks to everyone who reviewed... **

**I have to apologise again – I fell off the world for a while... it just seems to have been one thing after another for the last little while – the cherry on top of the disaster cake being my internet not working for two weeks making me unable to post even if I had finished writing the chapter (which I admit I hadn't) I will hopefully be hauling myself and this whole tale back onto track from now one... once again, I'm so sorry, I will try harder in future, please forgive me.**

**Disclaimer: ****I never intended plagiarism – not to JKR nor to any other writers... if you recognise it I didn't invent it...**

**Chapter Nine**

Severus lay very still staring at the ceiling. He could feel Hermione's warmth beside him and was trying not to admit that it felt nice to have her there. She wanted to talk. She wanted ground rules. She would, doubtless, also want him to tell her all sorts of things that he hadn't told anyone else in decades – or more likely never. She would want to make lists and write notes and oh, Merlin, what had he agreed to?

The alarm clock on Hermione's bedside table told him it was 4.30. He slipped out of the bed and got dressed silently before padding down the stairs and into the kitchen. If he wasn't sleeping, he could at least get a few things clear before she came down to interrogate - talk to - him. First things first: coffee.

Sipping the hot liquid made Severus feel a bit calmer, more clear headed. He needed to evaluate how he felt about this marriage, about her, about, well, everything really. So, he asked himself, how did he feel about this marriage? If he was being completely honest - which he supposed he probably should be, at least to himself - it could be worse. It was conceivable that he could have wound up hitched to some dithering bimbo who's capacity for intelligent conversation only stretched as far as the colour of her lipstick. He could have not gotten married at all; he could have been living as a muggle, or be serving a term in Azkaban.

Next, how did he feel about Hermione? That was harder. Maybe he could work out a point system. She isn't a dithering bimbo – plus one point. She still asks far too many questions – minus one point. She went out to work – plus one point. She insisted on spending time with him –minus one point.Severus let his forehead fall forwards onto the cool wood of the table; this was going to take some deliberating. At some point over the last twelve hours he had come to the conclusion that she was definitely not an 11 year old any more. He didn't want to look too closely at when that realisation had hit, probably when she had – no, it was enough that it had. So, maybe she was... tolerable. Maybe if he made full use of the time she wasn't there and she learnt to respect his quiet they could make this work. If not, there's always poison, he told himself darkly.

The room grew steadily lighter around Severus, who was still sitting with his head on the table, his hands cupping the mug of half drunk coffee, as he tried to limit himself to 10 main rules. It was only the sound of approaching footsteps that finally made him sit up. Determined to look both relaxed and dignified, he pulled the coffee a little closer to himself and sat back in the chair, Just in time to see Hermione coming through the door. She looked surprised to see him sitting there, but she managed a cheery "good morning," anyway.

Severus said nothing, he didn't know if it was a good morning or not yet and didn't like to commit himself either way. Finally, he rose to his feet, "cup of tea?" He had promised himself he would be civil after all. She nodded and he flicked the kettle.

-#X#-

Severus glared at the piece of parchment Hermione was scribbling on. She had drawn up a housework rota. He could cope with that. She had written out a list of 'house rules'. He could cope with most of that. The one that was giving him trouble was rule 51 –

_Rule 51 – At least one hour per day shall be set aside to talk about the day and to get to know each other._

"No." He said the moment she stopped writing it. "Absolutely, no."

"Why not?" she had that patient tone that suggested she was dealing with an unruly toddler.

"Because there is no need for it. Because I already know more about you than I need to know, and, most importantly, because there is not enough gold nor torture devices in this world that could induce me to share my innermost details with a prying Gryffindor."

"What do you mean you already know more than you need to about me?" at least she wasn't arguing about his reasons for refusing. Severus rolled his eyes.

"I mean exactly what I said; I have no need for further information about yourself, just as you require no further information about me."

"You need no further information about me." Hermione repeated it slowly, "you need no further information about me. Well, you may think you know enough about me, but I certainly don't know enough about you. For a start I'd be quite interested to know why there are no records of you even existing in the ministry archives." She folded her arms and raised her eyebrow in challenge.

"You'd have to ask the ministry that. Although, I have to say that does raise an interesting point. How do you know that there are no records of me in the ministry archives?"

"I did ask the ministry. Every single person connected with the creation and maintenance of the archives swears that all your information is there exactly like that of every other witch and wizard in the country. " She didn't really want to respond tor how she knew as she had the feeling he wouldn't be happy with the answer. Gryffindor courage. "And I know because I did a bit of research after we bumped into each other at the ministry the day after the letters were sent out." It sounded bad even to her own ears; Hermione braced herself for the shouting.

Hermione almost fell off her chair from shock when she realised that Severus was laughing. "Research. Yes, of course you would do research." He finally said. "Who wouldn't go trawling trough hundreds, possibly thousands of files looking for information on the history of a known Death Eater they were about to be forced to marry. Congratulations, you've just proved that I did the right thing getting rid of those files."

"You got rid of the records? But, how? Why?"

"Every single scrap of knowledge, no matter how small and insignificant it may at first appear, is worth something to someone. People like the Dark Lord and his followers were particularly interested in the kinds of information that are kept in those archives, because in those tomes there most likely lay the key to either blackmailing someone, or at least finding a way to get close enough to put a spell on them. In those dossiers, there are lists of addresses, health records, family records, financial records and any number of other records, all just waiting for the wrong person to come along and exploit them. I, for one, do not particularly like the idea of the ministry magically recording and storing information about anything I have done, let alone the things that could, perhaps, be used against me. "

"How did you do it?" She asked her voice no more than a whisper following his impassioned speech.

"I used magic to convince the wizard in charge to allow me access to the records room. I found my file. I read it, decided that I didn't want anyone else to read it and used a spell of my own invention to remove the information. It's not hard."

"But, surely someone would have noticed that the file was missing when they did their annual checks. Why have they never started a new file?"

"They've never started a new file because they've never noticed that the file is missing. I may have cast a spell over the shelf where the file was so that it looked like it was still there to the workers of the archive, but negates any desires said workers may have to open and examine the file, or indeed take it off the shelf."

"That's... that's... you invented the spell to fool the staff?" Hermione's head spun, a thousand questions at the tip of her tongue, how had he cast the spell without setting off the ministry's alarms? Had he removed anyone else's file? What would happen if the ministry ever did find out? Severus merely nodded once to answer her question. "That's... in its own way, slightly crazy... but impressive... I guess." She finished a little lamely.

"Yes, well, contrary to popular belief, this," he tapped the side of his head "is not just a hat rack." Did Severus Snape just make a joke? Hermione wasn't entirely certain what she should say to that, but soon found her tongue ravelling off something.

"I always knew you were intelligent, and probably very powerful, magically, I mean, obviously you'd have to be both those things to have gotten so advanced in your occlumency as to fool the Dark Lord for , I'm sorry, I don't even know how many years precisely. Oh, and you're the youngest person pretty much ever to receive the Masters in potions, and all those spells you invented in your sixth year , and probably a lot after or even before –" Severus held up a finger to silence her.

"Whilst obviously, most normal people would never tire of hearing their achievements babbled back at them at high speed, do you think, perhaps, we could save it for some other time?"

"Oh, err, sorry." That was it, silence reigned. It stretched on and got more and more uncomfortable until finally Hermione was just overcome with the need to say something, anything to fill it. "you know back when you were teaching I think you alone managed to hold the full attention of a class every single lesson, even Minerva, though of course I'd never say it to her, doesn't have quite the same presence that you do. "

"That's because Minerva was never quite as... feared, as myself." He almost sounded like he was remembering all those students he had made cry with some perverse fondness.

"it wasn't just the fear, it was for the boys, well, most of the boys, but I know for a fact that a fair few of the girls were in absolute raptures because of your-" Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth. What was she saying? Why was she saying it? What on earth had happened?

"Because of my?" that eyebrow was raised again, should she finish her thought? Was he going to laugh again if she did?

"Because of your voice, and the kind of dark mysterious thing you had going on." She admitted finally in a whisper.

"I am but a mere mortal, I can only use what God has given me." It took her a moment to realise that the arrogant, almost Gilderoy Lockhart-esque way he had spoken was meant in jest. What was even more amazing to her though was that he seemed to acknowledge her discomfort with the way the conversation had turned, he continued. "Alright, have your hour, but no more than an hour, and I reserve the right to tell you to move along if you start asking things I don't think you do really need to know." She nodded mutely. "Good. You always did know, much better than those dunderheads you hung around with, when to just agree to the terms and hold your tongue."

"are there any other rules you'd like to add?" she asked in a small voice, still feeling a little uncomfortable, and trying t work out if he had just complimented her.

"Only that my lab will remain out of bounds to yourself unless under my direct invitation and supervision. Oh, and that I will not allow any of your _friends_" he spoke the word as if it was something slimy and disgusting, "in this house so if you wish to see them you will have to do so somewhere else."

They sat in silence for a few more moments, before Severus rose and made towards the door of this lab, "assuming there is nothing else, then, I have a little work to be getting on with." He told her stiffly.

He had almost closed the door when Hermione spoke up again, "Severus?" she called. He didn't respond, except to reopen the door a little. "Do you think, that, as we are trying to actually make this work, we could behave like any other married couple, you know, upstairs?" she tried not to blush, but could feel her cheeks flaring.

"I imagine that would not be too much of a strain." The door clicked shut and Hermione silently punched the air.

**AN; yet more apologies for a short chapter – I don't know why I found that so hard to write... fortunately next chapter is coming along quite easily... this one was just a conversation that they needed to have... without wanting to drop any spoilers, things are going to get a little more complicated from chapter 10, so please bear with me... Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: As Always, thank you to everyone who reviewed and what not – you've restored my confidence in the fic. I had a bit of a soap opera over dramatic moment with this chapter... don't say I didn't warn you... **

**WARNING: this chapter contains descriptions of domestic abuse; please feel free to skip it. Oh, and please respect the rating system.**

**AN2: My apologies – I honestly thought I'd posted this weeks ago... don't quite know what happened there maybe I just need to reboot my brain...**

**Disclaimer: Much as I would love to be able to honestly say that all these characters are my own invention, I can't, in fact, it's not just the characters, there's all sorts of things that I've borrowed in the name of the alleviation of boredom – so, if you recognise it, it isn't mine!**

**Chapter Ten**

Hermione sat pushing soggy cornflakes round and round the bowl at the kitchen table. She had to admit she was a little concerned. Things had been going well over the last six weeks. they had started to move past Severus' aversion to answering questions. They had even had one conversation where they came close to discussing his time at school. It was just the last few days that he seemed to have started to slip away again. He was spending increasing amounts of time down in his lab and when he did appear he would often only grab a book, flick through to check some fact or other, and then disappear again, sometimes back down to the lab and sometimes out of the house to Merlin only knew where. So now, as Hermione sat quite alone at the kitchen table, she was contemplating what could possibly have gone wrong to make him revert so much.

She had resolved to talk to him about it, and a few other things last night. He did after all, always come to bed, and usually not too late. The problem was that last night, he hadn't. She had waited and waited for him to appear until finally she could keep her eyes open no longer and ended up falling asleep with the book still open in her lap, leaning against the head board. He still hadn't been there this morning. And he definitely wasn't here now. She counted back; he hadn't had dinner last night. He hadn't had lunch either. The last time she had seen him was breakfast yesterday when he had appeared for the amount of time it took him to down a glass of orange juice and eat half a slice of toast. He hadn't said a word to her. Maybe he wasn't avoiding her; maybe he was just really busy. Hermione got up slowly and pressed her ear to the door of his lab. Silence. She couldn't even be sure he was down there. What if there was another way out of the house down there? What if he was sneaking off to see some other woman? What if he had already been with the other woman and quite happy before she even came along? What if at this moment in time he hated her for standing in the way of his happy life with the other woman? Hermione gave herself a mental slap round the face as tears started to leak from her eyes. There was no other woman. Of course he was down there. There was no need to get emotional about this.

-#X#-

By the time lunch rolled around, Hermione had managed to distract herself with the book collection that she almost missed it herself, and in doing almost missed the fact that Severus still hadn't reappeared. Almost. She forced herself to return to her books. He would emerge when he was ready, and when he did, they would talk. It would be fine.

-#X#-

Dinner time the following day found Hermione pacing around the kitchen arguing with herself. She was forbidden from going in his Lab. She wasn't allowed to so much as touch the door handle, especially if he wasn't there. The trouble was, the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that something bad had happened. Logic said that there was a silencing charm on the door, otherwise she surely would have, at some point of another, heard the clinking of vials, or the clunking of a cauldron being moved, maybe even Severus swearing – it hadn't been unknown during their brief spell as working partners at Hogwarts. The trouble was, if there was a silencing spell on the door, what happened if there was an accident? What happened if something had exploded and Severus was unable to get upstairs to the door? She couldn't imagine that he could spend this whole time working quietly away, with no food and perhaps no sleep either, it was just impossible, he needed rest and food to keep his mind on top form. The argument was whether she should wait another night to see if he would come up on his own, or to go down and check.

Finally the niggling curiosity to see what his lab was like added itself into her concern for his safety, and she put her hand on the door handle. She paused to listen one final time before she opened the door but the silence was complete. The handle turned easily.

The second the door had opened she was hit with the reason for the silencing charm. The music blaring up the stairs was so loud it almost formed a solid wall. She struggled to make out any undercurrent of the kind of sounds one would expect to hear in a potions lab. It was impossible. She ventured down a couple of steps, still trying to hear anything other than the deafening noise. It was impossible. How could he even bear it? Hermione moved a few steps nearer, now trying to peer around the corner. She just wanted to check he was okay. It was natural concern for a fellow human being –and a fair bit of curiosity about the lab. She would just stick her head in to ask if he needed anything, like food.

Finally standing on the last step, Hermione felt her jaw drop slightly. The centre of the room was almost completely taken up by three cauldrons. The most interesting one seemed to be made of glass, though Hermione suspected that it had actually just been hit with a spell to make it clear. It was gently swirling it's own contents (a bright orange liquid) as a wine connoisseur might swirl wine round a glass while hovering in mid air at about head height. Severus stood between the other two cauldrons. He was stirring one with his left hand, while adding a shimmering silver powder to the other with his right hand, sprinkling it across the surface. She watched for a moment as his left wrist flicked through the potion, catching onto his pattern, _quick, quick, slow, quick, slow, change direction and repeat_. It was mesmerising. Especially as a purple mist began to rise from the surface, lending an almost dream like look to the whole scenario.

Hermione shook herself to clear her mind. She figured that she needed to attract his attention and wondered if she could shout over the music. "Severus?" she hardly heard her own voice. Severus stopped stirring and put out the flames beneath the left cauldron, but continued to sprinkle the powder. "SEVERUS!" still nothing. Now he was stirring the right potion, and apparently measuring out more powder, she noted the slight frown of concentration that passed over his face, his lips moving to silently count the turns of the stirring rod.

"SEVERUS!" she tried again, this time waving her arms as he turned half towards her. He nodded his head once as she stopped waving. That meant he was acknowledging her presence, right? She might have been pushing the limits when she also took it to mean she could come closer to see what he was doing, but then, when else was she going to get an opportunity like this? Hermione moved quietly across the room, not wishing to disturb his counting. She spied the CD player in the corner, but left it alone, it was probably best not to touch anything, who knew what she could accidently interfere with?

He was sprinkling again, this time twirling the rod through the mixture, which she could now see was pearly white in colour and about the thickness of yoghurt. He had stopped counting, so she decided it was probably safe to speak. "I just wondered if you wanted me to bring you some dinner or a sandwich or something?" she raised her voice over the music even though she was standing just by his shoulder.

She realised that he clearly hadn't seen her after all when he jumped so badly he spilled the entire scoop of powder into the potion (which instantly turned a sludgy grey) and swore loudly. The music cut out instantly. "I'm sorry, I thought you'd seen me." Hermione squeaked.

"Sorry? You're sorry!" Severus turned to glare at her, the look on his face was enough to make her take a couple of steps back before she'd even thought it through. "Do you know what you've just ruined? Do you have the slightest comprehension of how long it's taken me to get that to that stage?"

"I thought you'd seen me." She stammered back, "you nodded at me." It sounded feeble and she knew it.

"Why the bloody hell would I have invited you in when I explicitly told you to stay out?" he was visibly shaking with rage, Hermione took a few more steps back, and found that he advanced with her. "As you can see, my decision was justified! More than 10 years of work and you've just buggered the lot of it in less than a minute! Most of the ingredients require more than six months prep, that's not even thinking about the ones that are now non-tradable items under the fucking new ministry, meaning I'll be lucky to even see them again, let alone be able to get hold of them!"

"surely they'd give you a special licence, I mean you're the most famous potions expert of your age in, anywhere, and you're a war-"

"Yes, the ministry regularly hands out special licences for restricted substances to ex-death eaters!"

Hermione was against the wall now. "But you've been found innocent." She protested.

"Actually, I've been pardoned, which, before you say it, is so far from the same thing they're not even relatable!" Over his shoulder, Hermione noticed that the clear cauldron was swirling faster and faster, it's contents beginning to slosh and beat against the sides.

"There must be some way –" _CRASH! _Hermione squealed as the cauldron suddenly dropped out of the air, apparently it was glass after all, as it smashed spectacularly against the stone floor, splattering the orange liquid over everything in sight. A faint fizzling sound came from a stack of papers neatly placed on a desk in the far corner as the potion spattered them.

"My notes!" that was too much for Severus who gave a harsh growl, his fist colliding with the wall over Hermione's shoulder, causing her to flinch and raise her hands defensively in front of her head, giving another squeal of fright. Fortunately the sight of her cowering seemed to flick a switch in Severus' brain. He immediately turned away from her. "And so it's true." He murmured, so low, Hermione almost didn't catch it, then, "No. I won't be him."

He turned back to her, she was surprised by the change in his eyes, and every trace of anger was gone, replaced by a strange mixture of trepidation and guilt. "You should go, just go to the ministry. Tell them I hit you, I won't deny the charges. They'll give you somewhere safe to live. They'll –"

To say Hermione was surprised was an understatement. "Severus I'm not going to tell them that you hit me when you didn't. You missed, though I admit the thought that you were aiming for me is a little alarming."

"I wasn't aiming for you, stupid girl! I just – I don't even know, look, just go to the ministry, they'll get you out of this, get you away from me."

"Severus, I'm not going."

"Please, just go, I don't want this to ever happen again, and clearly I can't be trusted to hold my temper. You can get out, you can go, they'll protect you."

"Yes, protect me by throwing you in prison! I'm not going to do that, not when you didn't do anything more than give me a bit of a fright in the face of a much more serious crime." He didn't actually seem to be hearing her words, instead he was pacing back and forth, clearly agitated, which said something about how bad he felt, given that he spent most of his time not even displaying the tiniest hint of his inner emotions.

"Look, it's for the best, just go to the ministry, tell them what you like, I won't deny the charges, there won't even be a trial." He was now trying to get her back up the stairs.

"Severus, stop it! I'm not going to the bloody ministry!" her own temper seemed to flair from no where as he picked her up and put her over his shoulder to carry her out of the lab.

"But you have to." He told her, "it's the only way, I'm not risking hurting you again."

"What do you mean again? I told you, you didn't get me, do you see a bruise? Put me down and look at me!" She found herself dumped into a kitchen chair.

"You don't understand, you have to go. You can get away, away from here, away from me –"

"Severus I'm not going!"

"Yes, you are, you have to."

"No, I'm not!"

"You'll be so much better off without me anyway! I mean, they'll give you a safe house and -"

"Severus, I absolutely refuse to do what you are telling me! I am not going to go to the ministry. I am not going to falsely accuse you of hitting me, once, twice or at all. I am not going to go and take up a house when there are many other women out there who actually do need them. No, I refuse to lie and I definitely refuse to make myself a single parent." She clamped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. She hadn't meant to tell him like that. She had been hoping to carefully bring up the issue over dinner one night; she had wanted to prepare him more.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione, to be a single parent you'd have to have kids, or at least be..." he trailed off. Hermione almost saw the cartoon light bulb click on above his head, and watched as every tiny molecule of colour drained out of his already pale face.

"Severus, I didn't mean to say that, I mean, I was going to tell you, obviously, just not like that." She started quickly, as he sank into a chair opposite her. "I was going to tell you at dinner the day before yesterday, but, well, you weren't there." She paused as he held up a hand to silence her.

The silence lasted for almost five excruciating minutes. It was ended by Severus standing up so sharply that his chair skittered back across the floor. He marched across the room and out of the kitchen into the lounge. Hermione heard him going up the stairs. She heard the bedroom door slam. She sniffed slightly as the first tears glided down her cheeks, mentally chastising herself for just blurting it out in her annoyance.

-#X#-

_Ginny,_

_I've done something really, really stupid. Can you come round?_

_H._

The note that came through the floo was slightly charred, and bore the distinct splotching of tears. Knowing that it had to be something really bad for Hermione to have actually invited her to Spinner's End, Ginny was there within five minutes of receiving it. The door was no sooner opened than she had an arm full of sobbing Hermione.

Ginny waited until the worst of the tears had subsided over the mugs of steaming tea. "I admire your courage, you know," Ginny had long ago learnt that a bit of distracting humour usually helped, "there's not many people who'd risk inviting a Potter into Snape territory. Is he hiding in his lab again?" Unfortunately this didn't have the effect she had hoped for, as Hermione burst into renewed tears. "Hermione? What's going on? Where's Severus?"

"I – Don't – Know!" Hermione sobbed, "We- we –had a fight – and he – went out." She fought for control, "that was last week." She finished, blowing her nose on the tissue Ginny held out to her.

"Oh, 'Mione. What did you fight about?"

"It's my fault, I went in his lab, and there was a bit of an accident. The potion was ruined. He said he'd been working on it for 10 years!" she took a deep breath as tears threatened at the memory. "Long story short, he hit the wall with his fist, almost got me, not that he meant to, don't look at me like that." She added quickly, "He kept telling me I had to go the ministry and have him up on charges of domestic abuse. He just wouldn't listen to anything I said, he just kept on telling me to go to the ministry and then I got annoyed and I – I – I accidentally told him I'm pregnant." She said the last bit so quickly that Ginny almost missed it.

For a moment the red-head considered what to say. "And he left?" Hermione nodded, "and he hasn't been back?" Hermione shook her head, sniffing again. "Did he say anything? Anything at all before he left?"

"No. He just kind of froze up. He went really pale and quiet, and then he just got up, packed a bag and went out."

"Did he take all his things?"

"No, he left a couple of shirts, and a few other little things."

"Did he go back down in the lab?"

"No."

"In that case, I'd say he's coming back. You just have to give him time. It'll be okay, Hermione, he's not one to run from a challenge really, is he?" Happy that Hermione returned her encouraging smile, she decided she'd try the humour again, "now, more importantly, when were you planning to tell _me_ you're pregnant?"

-#X#-

Severus felt like his mind had shut down. A handful of words reverberated round his head, blocking out any other thought. _She's pregnant. She's going to have a baby. My baby. _ He had never, even in his most foolish fantasies thought that he would be a father, and yet it seemed that it was happening. The very thought terrified him more than anything else had ever done, not lying straight to the Dark Lords face, not even when that vile serpent had bitten him, had been this afraid.

He couldn't be a father. He knew nothing about any children under the age of eleven. He had always determinedly avoided them. He didn't know the first thing about babies for sure. He couldn't even draw on his own childhood, except perhaps as a reference for what not to do. He shuddered at the thought. What if his father's words came true? They already had in part.

"_Stop it! You're hurting her!" At eight years old, Severus wasn't strong enough to pull his father off as he held his mother's hair tight in his fist. _

"_Don't interfere with things you don't understand boy!" the backhanded slap sent him sprawling across the floor. He didn't even know what this one was about. he had just come down stairs to get a glass of water. "One day, boy, you'll know, you'll learn that women need to be kept in their place. You'll learn that the best way to do that is the same way as you do with brats, dogs and all manner of other filthy creatures, a sharp dose of pain soon sorts them out. You'll do it too. You'll hit 'em just like I do. It's in your blood."_

He'd sworn that day that he would never, ever, lay a single finger on any woman, child, or animal. So far he had broken the animal vow; he had come close to breaking the woman vow when he had lost his temper with Hermione. How did he know he wouldn't throw over his vow of never hurting children just as quickly? What if it really was in his blood? No, he couldn't let it happen. The only way he could ensure they were safe was to stay away.

They didn't need him anyway. Hermione, though he wouldn't have admitted it even under torture, was a bright, loving young woman. She would be a wonderful mother to this child. Maybe he could fake his own death? Then she'd be free to remarry. No, the ministry would probably choose a husband for her all over again, wasn't one of the reasons he married her in the first place to stop her from being tied to someone worse. It didn't seem possible at that moment that there could be anyone worse. Even Lucius had never beaten his wife, or Draco. No, there were definitely worse, he had seen first hand some of the men who now rotted in Azkaban laughing as they inflicted horrific wounds and torments on the most innocent victims they could find, age and gender were no boundaries to them.

Maybe he should go back. Maybe, just maybe, he could find some way to overcome his DNA. There had to be some sort of potion. Maybe something similar to Wolfsbane? Maybe it wasn't in his blood at all. Maybe his father had been wrong. But did he really want to take that risk?

He surprised himself to think that he actually wanted to be a part of this child's life. That was what finally made him go back. If he wanted so much to know this child, to help raise it, to care for it, then surely he wouldn't do anything to hurt it. His mind flashed back to Lily, he had wanted to care for her, and he had certainly hurt her, but then, he wasn't a teenager anymore, and he had fulfilled his promise to her. Maybe this was his chance at a fresh start.

-#X#-

Hermione looked up from the baby names book she was flicking through when she heard the front door click. The last two weeks had been a rollercoaster of doubt, determination, fear and excitement. With Ginny's help, she had finally decided that the best course of action was just to let Severus do what he needed to do. She owed him that for flinging the information at him in such a way, not to mention the damage to his potion and notes. She had forced herself to focus on the pregnancy and learning what she could from books instead of worrying about whether or not he was coming back.

He still looked pale as he stood in the door way, but he also looked determined. She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. He didn't say anything either. He just walked through into the kitchen. He was going into his lab. Hermione felt a stab of pain in her chest. had he just come back to claim the rest of his belongings?

Half an hour later, he re-emerged with a large, sealed cardboard box. He set it at her feet. "I think you're friend Mr Potter can probably find a better use for these than I can. Would you please see that he gets them?"

She nodded, still struck dumb, but now by surprise.

"Thank you. Now, I'm going for a shower, but when I come down, we have some things to talk about." Hermione nodded again, and swallowed around the lump of relief that had lodged itself in her throat.

**AN: I'm going to have to take a break from this fic for a while. As you may have guessed from my increasingly irregular updates, real life has gone a little crazy and I'm finding it increasingly hard to find time to sit down and write... hopefully I should have everything back under control by mid December (and then you can look forward to a Christmas special sneaking in) if not it will definitely be in the New Year... one thing I can promise you is that I WILL finish this fic – even if it takes me three years (which I really hope it doesn't and doubt it will). Thank you in advance for your continued patience. Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora.**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, or favourited, or story alerted. Thank you also to everyone who's reading this for waiting patiently... sorry it's only a short one, but I had to cut chapter 11 in half and this was the easiest place to chop... ladies and gentlemen please fasten your seatbelts, it could be a bumpy ride... **

**WARNINGS: this chapter contains all manner of things not suitable to younger readers, immature readers, readers of a sensitive disposition, and probably a whole host of other types of reader. The rule is if you shouldn't be reading this because of age related issues, please respect the ratings system. If you fall into one of the other groups you might want to read this with your eyes half closed so you can squeeze 'em shut at a words notice...**

**Disclaimer: it's just a bit of fun, I can only hope JKR doesn't object to what I make her fantastic characters do...**

**Chapter Eleven**

Hermione was trying very hard not to stare at the sharp contrast between Severus' black coffee mug and the tense, bloodless white of his knuckles as he gripped it so hard she certain it would shatter at any moment. She sipped the ginger tea he had prepared for her and tried to think of something, anything to say to break the apprehensive silence that Severus, his hair still wet from the shower, had started with the words, "okay, let's talk."

"I..." she faltered, suddenly lacking in her Gryffindor courage. "I'm... glad you came back." She finished lamely, addressing the table just to the left of his hand in a voice so small it was only just above a whisper. He lifted his head and for a second his dark gaze penetrated her own amber eyes. Those dark depths glimmered with a thousand things it seemed he wanted to say, if only he could find the right words. It was only a second before his head dropped once more, curtains of dark, damp hair hiding those eyes. He nodded to acknowledge her words.

They sat in silence for a few moments more before Severus slowly raised his head once more. "I did not ever imagine that I would be a father." Hermione tilted her head, his voice sounded almost awestruck. "Even now, it does not seem entirely real to me." She remained silent, waiting patiently for him to continue. He simply sipped his coffee, not meeting her eyes. He seemed to be stealing himself to do something difficult; she wondered for a fearful moment whether he was going to leave her after all. "I cannot promise to be a good father." His voice broke through her thoughts like knife. "I can, however, promise that I will do my utmost to support you through every stage of this pregnancy, and the child's life. I am prepared to take an unbreakable vow never to deliberately harm or desert you or any children that lay in our future. I would even go so far as to-" he was cut off by Hermione throwing her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck as she sobbed. She wasn't put off by the way his whole body went rigid with shock, or by the fact that he did not return her hug. "Did I misspeak?" he asked in a voice that betrayed the tiniest hint of fear. "my intention was not to upset you."

Hermione sniffled, finally taking pity on him, "you haven't upset me, you great... idiot. I'm crying because I'm happy, and because my hormones have got me so whacked out I feel like I'm a different species." Tentatively, Severus patted her on the back.

"I do not have very much experience with pregnant women."

Hermione finally released him, wiping her nose on the tissue he handed her. "That's okay, Ginny says my hormones will settle eventually, and that we'll be able to read just about anything we need to know in books anyways. She even invited me, err, us, over for dinner so that we can spend time with her kids to kind of practice and... you don't like that idea much do you?" she stopped her babbling at the look on his face.

"I can imagine more pleasant ways to spend an evening, pickling my own spleen, for a start. Then I could perhaps begin on removing all my finger and toe nails."

Hermione sighed deeply. "Fine, I'll tell them we can't make it. I just thought that maybe, I mean, they are my friends, and you wanted me to give Harry that stuff, what ever it is..."

Severus felt a strange prickling sensation in his heart as his young wife, the woman carrying his child, hung her head in disappointed resignation. It felt almost like guilt. His conscience pushed forward in his memory his promise to make her happy, to be a supportive husband. "If going really means that much to you, I suppose we might visit with them for a short while. I do, after all, need to pass on that box to Mr Potter." The smile she gave him then could have taught the sun a few things about beaming. Suddenly she was in his stunned arms once more, sobbing on his shoulder. Taking a breath, Severus carefully enfolded her in his own arms, pulling her into his lap and against his chest. He smoothed her hair down with his fingers, stroking her cheek with his thumb. She calmed, remaining in his arms and he placed a soft kiss against her forehead. His thumb still skated across her cheek, his movements gentle, almost subconscious. After a while, Hermione turned her head, just enough that the next time his thumb danced past her lips could give it a gentle kiss. He paused for a moment, her own hand coming up to hold his against her cheek.

Hermione slowly kissed the tip of Severus' thumb again, this time drawing the very tip into her mouth, brushing the end of her tongue over it. She heard Severus' breath catch as she flicked with her tongue again. She was somewhat disappointed when he gently set her on her feet. "I imagine there may be a few other things we need to discuss before we get too distracted." Feeling chastised, Hermione returned to her seat across the table. She sipped her tea, he sipped his coffee, the silence began all over again.

Hermione had just started mentally preparing a list of things that needed t be done to the house to prepare for the arrival of the baby when Severus finally broke the silence. "There are many types of evil. It's like poison, it can manifest in so many ways, cause so many varying degrees of injury. It can lay dormant and undetectable for years, even decades. In fact, in many ways it is worse than even the strongest, the most complex poison, because to any poison there is an antidote, but for evil and the effects there of, there is no known cure." Hermione blinked, it was like being back in the classroom, only there was something in his voice, something hidden behind his words that sent shivers racing up and down her spine.

"Are- "

"Please, don't interrupt. This is hard enough without stopping and starting." He blew out a long low breath, raked a hand back through his hair and leant back in his chair. "The other problem with true evil is that it leaves a stain, a permanent scar on everything it touches," her eyes flew to the mark on his neck, just visible above his collar and then to his left forearm where she knew the lingering traces of the Dark Mark still resided. "I'm not talking about anything you can see, Hermione, I'm talking about something that festers and burns on the inside. Something that lives and breathes with the person inside whom it dwells, biding it's time like an unseen monster in a child's nightmare. Everyone it touches becomes contaminated, and it spreads its dark fingers out until everyone around it can feel its menace." He paused for a moment, but Hermione didn't try to ask another question, even though hundreds buzzed through her mind.

"There is no cure for evil." He repeated quietly, then in a stronger voice he gave her the confession he had been building up to. "evil ruins through my very veins. It was passed down to me from my father, and most likely from his father before him. I always knew it's presence, saw evidence of it in every bruise on my mothers body, knew it's burn from the first time he kicked in my ribs and then refused to take me to the hospital, or to let her use her 'filthy, degenerate ways' to heal me. It found me again in the school, not, as I'm sure you are expecting me to say, in the form of James Potter and Sirius black, no, they were nothing more than mindless idiots. I found it in the very rooms in which I slept, and that evil connected with my own, nurtured it, and strengthened it so subtly that I didn't even notice until it tried to take me over completely. I say tried, it very nearly succeeded. Lilly Potter saved my life the night she died just as much as she saved her sons. If he hadn't killed her I would have followed him right across the river Styx to shake hands with Hades. I asked him to spare her. Bloody hell, I outright begged him to spare her, appealed to him from every angle I could come up with. The best he could give me was that if she co-operated with him, she would live. That was the first time in almost 4 years that I questioned whether I'd made the right choice when I took his mark."

"So you went to Dumbledore." She whispered it without thinking. Her mind reeled. She had seen the memories he had given Harry in what he had thought would be his last seconds of life. She knew the story, but somehow, hearing him tell it to her made it so much more real.

He gave a dry humourless laugh. "Yes, I went to the mighty Albus Dumbledore. I threw myself on the mercy of the one wizard that scared even Lord Voldemort. I promised him everything I had to give in exchange for keeping her alive. I signed a contract that might as well have been my own death warrant. He gave me his word that he would protect her, and that was all I needed to hear. Naturally his promises were empty. I should have known that they would be after my years of faithful servitude with the Death Eaters. Don't misunderstand me, I'm sure he never meant to break his promise. It's only that once the Dark Lord decides to kill you, that's it, it's all borrowed time until the spell leaves the wand." He shook his head. "You know all this already, of course. I don't need to tell you what happens next, and I've moved away from my point. My point is that there is much evil in the world, and much evil in me. I don't know that I will always be in control of it. I need you to know that this evil is there, so that if it does manage to break free, you will recognise it for what it is and get the hell out."

Hermione sat in stunned silence. "I don't think there's as much evil in you as you think there is, Severus Snape and while I recognise that there is a dark side to you and I accept that, I don't for one second think you would ever let that dark side anywhere near your child." She told him softly.

"I just want you to be warned."

Hermione nodded, all her questions started to buzz once more and although she went to far as to bite the inside of her cheek in an effort not to ask them all at once and annoy him, still they started to escape her. Her voice was full of horrified disgust as she asked "how old were you when your father broke your ribs?"

"Which time?" his voice held absolutely no emotion. It made Hermione's whole body shake with rage.

"He did it more than once?"

"Unclench your fists, take a deep breath and try to relax. He's already dead."

"Did you-" the question died on her lips at the look he gave her.

"Don't ask questions you don't really want to know the answer to."

The blanket of silence fell again, but this time their eyes remained locked together. Finally Severus said slowly, "let us discuss something a little more civilised." He waited for her to nod and lower her gaze back to the table before he continued. "As I'm sure you are already aware, Minerva plans to reinstate the tradition of a Yule Ball at Hogwarts. This year, as it will be the first, she has asked a number of previous staff members as will as some of the more high profile ex students would also like to attend."

"I'm assuming we're on that list."

"Yes."

"I'm also guessing that we don't really have a choice in whether we go or not."

"If there was even the remotest chance that we would be allowed to decline, you wouldn't even know we'd been invited."

"You make it sound like it's a punishment."

"What else could it possibly be?"

They continued with a little light banter about the upcoming ball, Hermione finding it surprisingly easy to hold up this type of conversation with the man she had always thought too serious for this sort of thing. Perhaps, she mused, there were more sides to her husband than anyone had ever guessed, including himself.

When Hermione was almost at the bottom of her mug of ginger tea and a much more relaxed and friendly silence had fallen, she finally mustered the courage to slide a piece of paper out of her pocket and across the table towards Severus. He picked it up and eyed it suspiciously, when he had unfolded it he saw a muggle hospital appointment reminder card. "It's a midwife appointment." She explained simply.

"Shouldn't that be with a healer rather than a muggle doctor?"

"I don't want you to be angry, and I promise I will see a healer, but I kind of want to keep in contact with my muggle heritage. If I'd never found out I was a witch, I would be seeing a normal, everyday, non magic midwife, and I'd like to still see one for this pregnancy."

He nodded slowly. "As long as you also see a healer, I see no reason why you cannot also see a muggle midwife."

"So, you'll come with me?" she asked, a little uncertain of whether he was giving her permission to go or accepting her unspoken invitation.

"Someone's got to make sure the quack doesn't do anything stupid."

**AN: Once again, my fervent thanks to all of you for being so patient and for your kind words of support through your reviews. Things seem to have settled down a bit now, and I am pleased to say that I can now promise there will be regular updates from this point on. I'm hoping to get chapters up at least twice a month, and I can tell you, if you're interested, that it will most likely be the second and fourth Sundays of each month. Anything extra on top of that is a bonus. Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora.**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Thank you to everyone for your reviews, it was especially nice when I checked my emails less than 12 hours after posting the chapter to find 13 reviews in my inbox, didn't stop smiling all day... yes, I am a review junky...**

**So, this is basically another section of chapter eleven, even though I've called it chapter twelve for continuity purposes, and chapter 13 is the end of the longest chapter I've ever written. It's going to be a fair old stretch in the time of things, so it might seem a bit jumpy... I also seem to have developed Potter-Block, so if Harry is a bit ooc, that's why... **

**Disclaimer: if I owned Harry Potter I wouldn't need to write fan fiction to bring Snape back from the dead...**

**Chapter Twelve**

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, you can't wear that. Severus, you look like you're going to a funeral. In fact you look almost exactly like you're about to start teaching us potions again. That's why you're dressed like that isn't it? You promised me you'd be nice. That includes not deliberately dressing to intimidate Go change. You have five minutes." Severus crossed his arms over his chest but did not move. Hermione drew her wand. "Fine. I'll change it, let's see, I'm thinking jeans," flick, "white shirt," flick, swish, "and a dark green pullover to keep you warm." A final wave of her wand and Hermione looked over the freshly transformed outfit, "yes. Lovely."

Severus looked down, grimaced in disgust and drew his own wand. Unfortunately before he managed to alter anything Hermione spoke again, "you change one single strand of that outfit Severus and I'll cast a charm to turn it pink and flowery. Believe me; I learned plenty of those whilst sharing a dorm with Lavender Brown."

"Then I'll just change it back, you're not the only one with a wand you know."

"yes, but you will have annoyed me so my aim will probably be a bit off, I mean it would be a terrible accident if it hit, for example, your hair, wouldn't it? I mean, I'm sure I don't have to tell you that charms that are meant for fabric usually turn permanent when they hit more natural fibre like hair."

Scowling, Severus replaced his wand. "Fine, but in that case, you have to come to dinner with some of my friends." Hermione thought about it for just a fraction too long, "I'm not that much of a social misfit you know."

"I didn't say anything; I didn't even think it, I swear." The look on Severus' face told her he didn't believe her. "Of course I'll come meet your friends, seems a fair trade for you spending a whole evening with Harry. Speaking of which, we're going to be late if we don't go, like, now." Severus sighed resignedly as Hermione hurried off to find her bag and get the chocolate cake she had made out of the fridge.

Less than five minutes later they were stood outside Grimmould Place. Hermione took a deep breathe and started towards the door, pausing after a couple of steps when she realised that Severus hadn't moved. He was just looking at the house before them. Surely he wasn't nervous about seeing Harry and Ginny. Then she realised, he probably hadn't set foot within 5 miles of this place since his spying days. "You okay?" she asked gently, going back and taking his hand.

It took a deep breath and the visible squaring of his shoulders, but Severus managed his best sneer, "of course I am. Come on, let's get this over with." He stalked off to the door and knocked with grim determination, but Hermione noticed that he didn't let go of her hand.

The door was flung open almost as soon as Severus' hand touched it and they were both pulled inside by a very excited Ginny "you made it! Oh, I'm so glad you're here, Hermione, Prof, err, Mr... Severus." She said boldly.

Severus' lips thinned when Hermione squeezed his hand lightly he only said, "thank you, Mrs Potter."

"Oh! Mrs Potter indeed, please, call me Ginny. We're practically family now. Harry's just in the library with Lily; she loves books almost as much as Hermione here." Ginny turned towards the stairs, "HARRY! THEY'RE HERE!"

A door creaked upstairs and the sounds of feet on stairs could be heard. "Hermione!" harry hugged her as soon as he reached her, his daughter also in his arms. He stepped back, looked Severus over carefully and then held out his hand, "Severus."

Severus reluctantly took Harry's hand without saying a word, as soon as it was released another, much smaller, hand was extended towards him, "Se'rus" the young girl said in a good imitation of her fathers cold yet polite tone.

"There's a V in there, sweetie," Hermione giggled, "it's Se-ver-us, but I'm sure you can call him Uncle Sev." She turned to her husband with a cheeky smile, "this is Lily, she's two."

"And a half." Lily added proudly.

To everyone's surprise Severus shook Lily's hand solemnly. "Two and a half, well Miss Lily, as you're such a big girl, perhaps you could help me with something?"

Lily's eyes sparkled as she almost jumped down form her father's arms. She looked expectantly at Severus who knelt down to her level, put his hand in his pocket and produced a tiny package. "do you think you could look after this for me?" she nodded eagerly and took it into her hand.

"What is it?" She asked, examining it from every angle she could.

"ah, it's a surprise. You mustn't try to open it until your Daddy has un-shrunk it, okay?" she nodded again, "and you mustn't let Daddy un shrink it until after myself and Hermione has gone home, do you understand?" she nodded again and slipped it into her own pocket. She patted the small lump protectively.

"I won't, Uncle Sev. Do you like books?" Without waiting for his answer she grabbed his hand and started trying to pull him off towards to front room.

Hermione and Ginny laughed together as Harry looked after his daughter and her new fund friend with a look of pure confusion on his face. "You're not going to have any problems with him when your little one's born 'Mione," Ginny told her, "I'm sure he'd never admit it, but he's a natural. But do tell me, how on earth did you manage to get him to wear blue jeans?"

-#X#-

Things were going unexpectedly well, in Hermione's opinion. They had spent the fist half hour of so in the front room, chatting amongst themselves while Severus read in a hushed voice to Lily, He hadn't even objected when she had moved on from her 'My First Wizarding Encyclopaedia' to such muggle story classics as 'Sleeping Beauty' and 'Beauty and the Beast'.

Dinner passed pleasantly enough with Ginny managing to draw Severus into a conversation about the best ways to store various basic health related potions for long periods, so that she could improve her first aid kit. Harry and Hermione talked a lot about Ginny's pregnancy and the birth from Harry's point of view, Hermione making mental notes on all the ways to keep Severus feeling involved and helpful. Hermione couldn't help but also notice that both Severus and Harry seemed to be drinking their wine quite quickly, but she wrote it of as nerves on Harry's part and discomfort on Severus'.

It was during coffee and chocolate cake, back in the front room that things began to take a turn for the worse. Lily was half asleep nestled on the sofa between Ginny and Harry, her head against Harry's arm. Hermione had seated herself, after a quick nudge from Ginny, on the second, slightly smaller sofa, beside Severus, close enough that if he wanted to put his arm down it would have to either go on her leg or around her shoulders.

"So, are you going to find out the gender of the baby? They do that at muggle scans, right?" Ginny asked, breaking the silence that had fallen, just as it began to shift out of companionable and into uncomfortable.

"I'd like to know." Hermione replied.

"It's traditionally in wizarding families to find out at the birth, usually something the parents do together." Severus said softly.

"Yeah, but if Hermione wants to know, you're not going to stop her." Harry said suddenly, a little more heatedly than Hermione (and Ginny, judging by the small pinch she gave her husbands arm0 thought necessary.

"It would appear to be something we need to discuss further. In private." Severus responded pointedly, putting down his cup.

"I'm just saying, Hermione is from a muggle family, she doesn't necessarily want to stick to all the wizarding traditions. If she wants to find out the gender of the baby, you shouldn't stand in her way."

"I have no intention of standing in anybody's way, I merely commented that it is a tradition, that doesn't mean I agree with it."

"Why bring it up if you didn't?"

"Harry, I don't think we need to have this discussion here."

"It's alright, Hermione, clearly Mr Potter is still of the opinion that everything in the world has to do with him, and therefore he must know best."

"Severus, I don't think –"

"You would see it like that, wouldn't you? I'm just looking out for my best friend." Harry overrode Hermione

"And I'm just an old Slytherin, trying to bend the Gryffindor princess to my will, is that it?" Both men were on their feet now, facing each other, the air around them crackling.

"Let's just say I'd feel better about this whole situation if you hadn't turned tail and run at the first mention of kids. You must have known this would happen, it was part of the reasoning behind the Unity Law. So once again, no-one is quite sure exactly what you plan to do, or where your loyalties really lie."

Harry James Potter! That is enough." Ginny stood up, Lily now in her arms. "If you can't be civil to our guests, I think you might need to excuse yourself from this room and take your daughter to bed. Now." Ginny's knack for imitating her mother was certainly impressive. Harry glowered once more in Severus' direction, before taking his daughter and leaving the room.

"I think it's time we left." Severus said stiffly.

"I'm sorry, he just get's a bit... protective, and then he gets annoyed and he stops thinking." Ginny Said, "You don't have to go, once he's calmed down – "

"No, really, it's getting late, It would probably be best if we just go. I thank you for your hospitality all the same." Hermione stood beside her husband and nodded her agreement.

"I'm sorry Ginny, Maybe it was a little too soon for us to come over anyway. Clearly Harry needs a little more time to get over the fact that this law has done exactly what it was meant to do."

"Okay, I understand." Ginny sighed, "Just don't let it put you off coming back, yeah? I want regular updates on this little one." She placed her hand against Hermione's belly with a smile.

Hermione and Severus didn't speak as they walked across the road to apparition point, nor did they speak as they walked down Spinners End. It was only when they were inside and Severus had finished warding the door that Hermione said softly. "I just want you to know that I don't think the same way as Harry does, I understand why you left, and I don't blame you in the slightest. I would probably have done the same if I was in your situation. He'll realise that too when he's calmed down. The important thing to me is that you came back."

"I don't give a damn about what Potter thinks. It took me almost two decades to realise it, but at the end of the day, no matter how much he reminds me of both his parents, he isn't them, he's just a silly little boy I once tried to teach." Severus went through into the kitchen. Hermione heard the sound of the kettle boiling as she removed her coat. She was glad that Severus was still in the kitchen when Ginny's owl tapped on the window. She went over and let it in, once she had taken the note, it immediately flew off.

_Hermione,_

_Harry's just opened that box. Please tell Severus thank you, just in case my husband has lost all of his manners, though I think he will right to thank him himself (and hopefully apologise for his behaviour.)_

_Speak to you soon,_

_Ginny_

Hermione frowned a little, she had no idea what had been in the box, and she only now remembered the box Severus had brought up from his lab on the day he returned. Severus raised an eyebrow in question as he handed her a mug of tea, she smiled as she took it. He always seemed to know without asking when she needed a good cuppa.

"What was in that box?" she asked him, a little wary, as he could still occasionally be a bit prickly with questions.

"Just a few old photographs." He shrugged and sat down in his favourite reading chair.

"Photographs?"

"Yes." Clearly he didn't want to answer the question, unfortunately that made Hermione's curiosity burn even more.

"Photographs of what?"

"Lily." Photographs of Lily. Hermione really wanted to ask why Serverus had given harry a box of Photographs of Lily, but felt that was probably a conversation for another day. Instead she picked up her book from the table beside her chair and started reading. Severus did the same and they spent a few hours just sitting together.

"Minerva has expressed a wish for us to arrive at Hogwarts a week before the Yule Ball. She says she has a few things she needs to discuss with me, and no doubt she also wishes to fuss over you as she does with every pregnant woman she meets." Severus said slowly from his book.

"That means we've got to be there at the end of next week. I haven't got my dress or anything."

"Calm down. There will be plenty of opportunity for such things during our week long stay. In fact, it seems to me to be the perfect excuse for you and Minerva to go and talk about what ever it is that women talk about on such trips."

When they retired to bed that evening, Hermione began to feel the first stirs of excitement about the ball. Apart from their brief wedding reception, she had not really been to anything like this with Severus, and she was definitely looking forward to it.

When they woke up the next morning, a thick scroll of parchment waited for Severus, containing a thorough and clearly heartfelt letter of apology for his behaviour along with a thank you for the photographs, which he and little Lily were going to put into albums that evening. Severus said nothing further on the subject, but Hermione suspected that he was secretly glad that lily, probably more than Harry, would be getting enjoyment from the photographs of her grandmother and namesake

**AN: this was the light section, even though it wasn't overly fluffy, it's just really here to show the ways in which our lovely pair's relationship is beginning to develop... the next chapter WILL be up no later than in about two weeks time... Promise... Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora.**


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Okay, huge apologies, I'm having major computer issues at the moment (long story short, I've only got half a computer screen working due to a toddler related incident) and, without trying to sound like I'm making excuses, between job hunting, parenting and a to do list as long as a jumbo jet, writing time is seriously limited. As such finding it very hard to get this story posted... I will do my best to be a bit more regular in my updates, but I can't promise anything but this I WILL FINISH THIS STORY... thank you for your patience, and your reviews... **

**WARNING: this program contains scenes some viewers may find disturbing. Please respect the ratings system.**

**Disclaimer: it's only mine if you don't recognise it.**

**And now: enter the green eyed monster...**

**Chapter Thirteen**

They floo'd straight into Minerva's office, after her insistence that she couldn't make Hermione make the long walk from the apparition point to the castle 'in her condition'. Almost as soon as they'd stepped out of the fireplace she was offering them tea and ginger newts, both of which Hermione accepted and Severus declined. Minerva set a cup of tea down in front of both of them anyway, a biscuit balanced on the saucer.

They spent almost an hour chatting about nothing of importance, or at least Hermione and Minerva did, Severus spent almost an hour sipping his tea and scowling at his biscuit. Finally, Minerva suggested that perhaps Hermione would like to accompany a house elf to select a room for them to stay in whilst she and Severus 'got down to some business'. Hermione agreed with a smile and left them to it when the Dobby arrived. Severus could hear Hermione chatting to the elf as they made their way down the stairs.

Minerva was watching him over the top of her square rimmed glasses when he lifted his head to look at her. "I see marriage is treating you both well." She commented.

Severus stiffened, as he always did when the older woman tried to talk with him about things he considered to be personal and therefore private. "Yes." He answered crisply, "Were you expecting otherwise?"

"Not at all, Severus, there's no need for you to take such a defensive tone. I was merely observing that you look somewhat more relaxed, and indeed a little happier than last time I saw you. I wonder perhaps, if now there might be a little more to this than just you doing the right thing, as it were?"

"I had enough with meddlesome old fools whilst I worked here, Minerva." Severus warned, but the headmistress just beamed as if that was exactly the answer she had been hoping for.

"speaking of working here, that's actually why I wanted you to come a week early, you see, I've unfortunately had to relinquish my current potions professor to a 6 month trek of the Himalaya's looking for rare herbs and other such ingredients, as well as the valuable knowledge of the indigenous peoples there abouts. You know how it is, all in the name of bettering himself."

"And you wondered if I's be his replacement, because I so enjoyed doing the job the first time round." He added for her.

"Oh, come, you can't say you didn't enjoy at least parts of it. Please, Severus, I'll give you a raise, and bigger rooms, a bigger lab, anything you want, I'll even convince the school governors to fund your research."

"You really must be desperate."

"You couldn't even begin to imagine." A familiar voice caused him to cringe as it came from one of the portraits he had been determinedly not looking at. "Going to the Himalaya's wasn't actually Richard's idea, was it Minerva?"

"Yes, it was his idea, though he perhaps wouldn't have had it if I hadn't got Pomona to tell him all about the interesting things she learnt while she was out there, and how helpful she thought it would be for him."

"I'm sorry, Minerva, I don't think there is a single thing you could offer me that would make me want to come back here to teach."

"What about Hermione? You know, she applied to become transfiguration mistress almost as soon as she'd got her NEWTs. Imagine, Severus, just for a moment, what it would be like, to live in this castle now. Imagine, a life in this castle, which I know you love really, with all the good bits of the past still here, like your lab, the library, the influencing young minds, all of that, but with the added extras that you'd have Hermione here, and your little one. Imagine your child growing up here, Severus, he or she would know the very best of everything, you'd have a steady income again, Hermione would be doing something more than quill pushing for the ministry."

Severus did imagine it, and a part of him, a small hopeful part, thought that it could be wonderful; it could be everything he had thought it would be when he had first thought about teaching so far back as his fifth year. But then the cynical part of his brain kicked in, all the memories that he'd held here. How could he walk these halls now? How could he teach the students knowing what had gone before? He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Minerva."

"Don't tell me definitely, please, just think about it, talk to Hermione about it. Tell me at the end of the week?"

He could concede to that. He would think it over for a week and then give her his final decision.

-#X#-

Severus had thought abut it from every possible angle, he had argued with himself, he had researched in the library, he had made lists of pro's and con's, he had even spoken to a few select portraits. He still wasn't sure he should take up Minerva's offer. He still wasn't sure he could turn it down either. ON the walk out of her office, it had been a definite no, but as the week progressed all good points about the castle seemed to present themselves to him, as was doubtless Minerva's intention in asking that he not answer until the end of the week. He hadn't mentioned it to Hermione; he knew she would jump at the chance to come live here again, a blind man could have seen that from just the way she acted whilst here. He tried to convince himself that he hadn't told her because he didn't want her interfering with his decision making process, but a small traitorous whispered that maybe it was because he didn't want her to be disappointed if he couldn't bring himself to say yes.

There was so much history here. There were so many memories that haunted this castle better than the ghosts. He would have a lot of demons to face if they moved back. Severus sighed, raked his hand through his hair and wondered if Hermione was having fun shopping with Minerva. Then he wondered if Minerva had told Hermione about the job yet, because that would certainly complicate matters.

-#X#-

"What about this one? Do you think he'll like it?" Hermione bit her lip as she held up the dress, the long flowing lines of the silk and the peachy colour put her in mind of a desert. Minerva looked sceptical.

"Maybe it looks better on?" the older woman suggested, Hermione put it back on the rail. "you seem to be trying very hard to please him, Hermione, dear, I'm just a little concerned that you might wear yourself out in the effort.

"I'm just trying to prove that social occasions don't have to be... torturous." Hermione responded slowly.

"I fear you may be fighting a loosing battle there, Severus is not and never has been what one would term a social butterfly." Minerva dug through the rack and tossed the younger witch a pile of purple fabric, "try that one, it'll compliment your skin tones."

Hermione held it up, "I don't know, it's a little short."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Hermione, when you are young enough to have shapely legs, and no horrid veins and wrinkles, you are supposed to show them off."

"I'd just feel more comfortable with something a bit longer."

"Compromise, then, this one is floor length with a slit." The bundle came sailing through the air; Hermione almost dropped the purple gown as she caught it. She didn't even have to hold it up to know that this was the one.

"Perfect."

-#X#-

The Yule Ball was getting nearer by the minute. Severus was sitting in a chair reading, every now and then checking his watch, glancing at the bathroom door, shaking his head and returning to his book. IT never failed to amaze him just how long women could take fiddling about with their hair. Obviously he wasn't concerned that they would be late for the ball, any time they were late was time he didn't have to spend making idle small talk and avoiding Minerva, he was, however, minorly concerned that Hermione had sealed herself into the bathroom some two and a half hours previously, and since that time he hadn't heard a single sound from beyond the door. It was a almost as if she had simply ceased to exist, though he privately thought that heavy silencing charms might be a more likely explanation. Why she felt the need to put up silencing charms in the first place was beyond even his reasoning.

Finally, at exactly the moment she had earlier dubbed 'the latest possible second we could leave and still be on time, just' the bathroom door clicked open. Severus, a sarcastic remark about her timing already on his tongue, looked up and the remark died unspoken. Hermione looked... there weren't actually words to describe how Hermione looked. IT was like the daydream moment from their wedding day all over again, and Severus had to question exactly what he had done in his life to get this lucky. She stood in the doorway, holding a small beaded bag, biting her lip and looking a little more than nervous. The corseted top of the dress, which was a pale gold colour (that Severus was certain he'd never liked until this moment), showed off her narrow waist and accentuated her breasts without it looking overly obvious, and the long skirt with and almost equally long slit up one side was perfect to showcase her slender legs and perfect ankles above ridiculously high heels.

"You look... lovely." Severus mentally punched himself, _lovely...seriously? is that really the best you can come up with?_ At least it made her stop looking so nervous and flash him a huge smile.

For Hermione, the slightly stunned expression on Severus's face as his eyes raked from head to foot and then slowly back up again, spoke more volumes than the fact he actually complimented her appearance. She gently patted the back of her head, where her hair was carefully pinned up so that only a few small curls fell around her face and ears. "Shall we go then?" she asked, now starting to feel a little uncomfortable in the heat of Severus's stare.

-#X#-

They entered the Great Hall a short distance behind the last of the student couples, and Severus instantly located the darkest, least looked upon corner of the room and moved them both to it. "you really don't like this do you?" Hermione said, a slight laugh in her voice.

"If you wish to mingle, go ahead, I see the Potters and the Weasleys by the drinks table, I, however, have no desire to spend the evening discussing Quidditch."

"You know, you actually do have to say hello to them at some point, we are married, and they are my friends, and, therefore, by association, your friends." She pointed out calmly.

"If I agree to speak civilly with _those two_, do you agree that we can leave by midnight?"

Hermione actually laughed, "yes, Severus, we can leave before midnight, come on, I'm sure it can't be all that bad."

She took his hand to lead him over to where Harry, Ginny, Ron and Lavender now sat. She determinedly ignored the quiet groan from behind her as they sat down to hear Ron saying, "So obviously the Cannons will wipe the floor with them in the rematch."

After that, the evening went pretty much as expected, Lavender, Ginny and Hermione discussed pregnancy, babies, work, and a few other things, Ron and Harry discussed their work, Quidditch, football (which Harry had finally managed to get Ron to understand) and upcoming changes to Wizarding Law. Harry occasionally attempted to draw Severus into their conversation; Ron even tried to make a joke about their school days, but stopped when Hermione kicked him under the table.

It was almost 10pm when Severus decided enough was enough, excusing himself in the guise of going to get a fresh round of drinks, he pushed back his chair and made his way at a deliberately leisurely pace across the room.

-#X#-

Hermione, though she didn't miss a beat in her conversation, watched Severus head off across the room, her eyes tracking him until he vanished into the crowd. Half of her wanted to go check he was okay, but the more logical part spoke up to remind her that if anyone could take care of themselves it was Severus. She focused harder on what Ginny was saying.

A few moments later she caught a human shape sinking into Severus' chair out the corner of her eye. He was back. She turned to retrieve the glass of lemonade he had doubtlessly brought back with him (a prop that served two purposes – showing the world that he was capable of thinking about her needs, and providing the evidence to back up his excuse to leave the table). The problem was, there was no lemonade. There was no Severus. The human shape that had sunk into the chair belonged to possibly the last person she had expected. Cormac McLaggen gave her a toothy grin and pushed a glass or pumpkin juice towards her that smelt suspiciously of alcohol. "Nice to see you again, Granger."

Hermione opened her mouth to correct him, but he didn't give her the chance. "Thought I might catch you here, in fact, I've been hoping to run into you for a while. I was surprised you never went into teaching, you know, Merlin knows you've got the brains for it. One of the only reasons I agreed to coach the quidditch teams on my days off."

Hermione, forcing a polite smile, decided she'd probably get out of this quicker if she played along. "How generous of you, Cormac. I'm sure the," she racked her brain for the team he had signed with, remembering the article Ron had so disgustedly flung under her nose a few years back, "Wasps must be proud of your community spirit."

"The Wasps? Haven't you heard? I'm not with the Wasps anymore, no, they were a great group of people, but last season their game just started slipping, I mean, they even let the Chudley Cannons beat them," she sensed more than saw Ron's ears redden, " I mean, come on, that was just too humiliating. I'm with the Falcons now, you know, the Falmouth Falcons, much stronger team. They're really going places, and they offered me a substantial wage rise with it."

Hermione tried to look interested as she nodded and forced another smile onto her lips. "So anyway, how goes it with you?" once again she opened her mouth to reply only for him to steam roller her, "Tell you what, why don't we take a bit of a walk, you know, catch up in the fresh air." He glanced at Harry and Ron. So did she, trying to ask for help without actually doing anything. His hand was already at her elbow, guiding her up out of her seat, and, for someone who was meant to be smart, her brain went awfully blank as she tried to think of an excuse to stay. It wasn't that she had anything against Cormac, really, it was just that she'd rather not have to walk outside, and listen to him talking about, well, him. But it was too late now. Before she knew it they were outside, strolling at his pace through the grounds.

He was talking again, she caught the end of a question and this time didn't even bother to open her mouth. "... who did the ministry land you with? I had hoped you'd be on my list, after all, we did date while at School" Hermione struggled not to snort, _dated? We had one date and I spent most of that hiding behind curtains and trying to avoid you!_ "Still, I suppose I didn't do too badly with Helen, she's alright. We have an agreement, anyway." She couldn't help but notice his hand had slipped from her elbow to her waist. She edged away a little, but he just moved closer. "That's a lovely dress by the way, makes your breasts look much bigger." She all but reeled that time, _where the hell do you come from thinking that's an appropriate compliment?_ "You're smart; you probably have an arrangement with which ever dolt they burdened you with, eh Granger?" He winked at her.

This time she snapped, talking over him. "Severus and I have no need for any _arrangement_, thank you very much."

"Severus?" he said incredulously, "surely you can't mean..." he choked out, clearly trying not to laugh, "the old grease ball of the dungeons? Oh, poor you." he did laugh now, "what were they thinking, hooking up someone as lovely as you with a low life like that? Good job I'm here, then, really." He turned to her, she stepped back as he stepped closer.

"Actually," Hermione told him, now seething, "I think I'd rather like to go back inside now."

"But there's so much fun to be had out here." She didn't like the lilt his voice took then, she also didn't like the way he took another step forward, his fingers tightening on her waist a little. "come on, Granger, I can show you what it's like with a real man, give you something to think of when he's sliming his way over you." Hermione took another step back and this time came up against a wall.

"Cormac, I'm going back inside. Now." She told him firmly, she went right, his hand landed on the wall in front of her blocking her path. She went left only to find his other arm.

"alright, you've put up your token fight, like a good little law abiding ministry employee. I know you want it too, Granger, I can see it in you." He pressed forward, effectively pinning her against the wall. One hand left the wall to sneak into the slit of her skirt, fingers brushing up her thigh as he bent his head towards her neck. Hermione pushed at his chest with her hands, it had no effect. She tried hard not to panic, and gave him one final shove. To her surprise he moved, rapidly. In fact, Cormac McLaggen all but flew through the air in a semicircle, his back smashing into the wall a few feet from her side, a glowering black shape holding an arm across his throat.

"_OhThankGodSeverus."_ The words just rushed out of her as she sank down the wall in sheer relief.

"Just for future reference, you detestable little vermin, when a lady says no, she means no and that means you stop." Her husband growled at the younger man. Cormac didn't move, she wondered if he was in shock. "Now, let me make something else clear. If you ever so much of think about laying a finger on _my_ _wife_ for the rest of your life, I will personally hunt you down and make you wish I had killed you tonight. Got it?" Cormac gave a squeak like a mouse, which Severus clearly took for assent, because he released the arm that had been lodged beneath Cormac's chin. The younger man, suddenly not seeming so big and self assured lurched away from the wall. Hermione barely saw Severus's fist as it came back towards Cormac's face, breaking his nose with a loud crunch. The quidditch player staggered a little way to the side before he started running. Severus called after him in a voice of deadly calm. "Remember Cormac, I don't need magic to fulfil my promises."

He waited until McLaggen was out of sight before he turned to Hermione, who had pulled herself back to standing. She could feel the weight of his eyes on her, the heat radiating off him. "Did he hurt you?" He asked, she shook her head, stepped forward away from the wall. He closed the space, kissing her lips gently. She deepened it, pulling him close, as it trying to use him to blanket herself from the memory of the other body pressed against hers. His arms encircled her waist, one moving up a little to her shoulder blades. She drew him forwards; she moved them, without breaking the kiss until she was once again sandwiched with the wall. She didn't feel scared this time, she felt... safe, warm, and a prickling buzzing somewhere in the region of her stomach. When his hand moved back round to the side of her waist, she moved it to her thigh, feeling the heat of his fingers burning away the remembered touch. His lips moved away from hers, trailing a path of fir across her jaw and down to her collar bone. His hand slipped higher, fiddling with the laced edge of her underwear. She heard herself moan, half realising that anyone could see them; anyone could walk into this not so secluded spot. It made her feel naughty; it made her feel a little hotter. His tongue traced over the top of her breast as her finger nails raked over his scalp, "Hermione," he breathed against her skin, "this isn't exactly a private spot, perhaps we should-"

She shushed him buy raising his head and kissing him again. When she was done she answered with her lips still against his, "I don't want to go, Severus. I want you." There wasn't much argument after that. Everything seemed to blur in the heat that arched like lightening between their bodies. It wasn't long before Hermione had her legs wrapped around his waist, underwear shoved in his coat pocket. "oh, gods," she could feel the tingling in her stomach spreading, tightening, as if preparing for an implosion, "yes, oh, Severus" she heard the words like they came from somewhere else, she could hear him too, a low rumbling growl that sent fresh waves of heat through her core. The pace was picking up now, she knew it was nearly over they were nearing the moment of shimmering bliss, "Oh Gods, I love y-" she caught herself just before what she sensed would be a fatal error, her eyes snapping open, "this," she finished in what she hoped was enough to cover her slip, it didn't ruin the building moment, she felt her worries, even her thoughts receding again. It built back up to fever pitch quickly, and it was only when it was over, and they both knelt on the ground, wrapped in each others arms and Severus' cloak, that he gave any indication that he had heard her.

"You know," he said slowly, in a quiet almost nervous voice, "it occurs to me that I am perhaps no longer completely indifferent to you, as well." He wouldn't look at her face, instead addressing her knees, but it still made Hermione grin from ear to ear.

**AN: the image I based Hermione's dress on, for anyone who's interested, is here: **_**http:/ www. simplydresses. com /shop /viewitem-PD588157**_** (obviously without the spaces). I was going to go for the red version (also shown there) but I thought that might be a little too much Gryffindor for poor Severus. Once again, I apologise for my complete lack of updates over the last however long, I will try not to leave it so long next time... I think I jinxed it by saying I'd be able to update regularly for sure... Hugs and Cookies, ForeverPandora.**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: As always a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed and to all you readers who have waited so patiently for updates... I had good fun writing this chapter, I hope you have as much fun reading it (even if it is a bit of a behemoth)**

**Disclaimer: while I can take credit for a lot of things, the things you recognise aren't among them...**

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Get up Hermione, it's time to go." Hermione groaned, rolled over and looked at the clock.

"It's 6am, Severus."

"I know, we're already late. Get up."

She rubbed her eyes and sat up. "Why do we need to leave at 6am? I thought you said you'd told them to expect us at about lunch time."

"Exactly. If we leave early we have the added advantage of them not expecting us. It's called the element of surprise." He told her in what she mentally called his first-year-classroom-you're-an-idiot voice.

"Why do we need the element of surprise when we're going to visit you friends?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling very awake.

Severus just smiled in a way that made Hermione nervous. "Get up. We need to leave."

An hour later Hermione still wasn't sure what exactly was going on. They were currently both wearing disillusionment charms and a few other spells designed to reduce their noise, stop them from being noticed and repel tracking charms. All in all, it made Hermione wonder if Severus was entirely clear on the definition of 'friends'. Severus still had his wand out and was constantly looking around them, alert for the tiniest movement or noise. He was making her jumpy and nervous, which made her keep looking around and listening intently too.

They kept moving, Severus leading her close to the trees, staying in the shadows despite their many layers of enchantments. After maybe half an hour of walking Hermione finally grabbed Severus' arm and demanded to know why they needed all the secrecy. Severus sighed and rolled his eyes, "because, obviously, we don't want to be seen."

"I got that bit, thanks." She told him, biting back her annoyance at being spoken to like an idiot for the second time today, "what I'm not getting is the why. Why don't we want to be seen if these are your _friends_?"

"How else are we going to get into the house?" He was using his you're-an-idiot voice again

"I don't know, Severus, Maybe knocking on the door?" this time she didn't mange to keep her annoyance to herself.

"You want to knock on the door? Okay, you show me the door and we'll knock." And with that he pulled her against his body and murmured a spell, Hermione bit back a squeal of fear as she felt her feet leave the ground. They floated steadily higher until Severus set them both down on the very top most branches of the tree they had seconds ago been standing under.

"There's the house." He pointed and she looked, the house was an old fashioned manor type building made of some light grey stone. It had huge windows set at intervals all around its three floors. She couldn't see a door. She snapped a small dead twig off the branch they were standing on and transfigured it into a pair of binoculars. After a careful scrutiny of the two visible walls of the house, She still couldn't see any door.

"It's round the back?" she asked with rapidly draining hope. He just raised his eyebrows and shook his head slowly.

"Ready to go now? At this rate we'll miss breakfast." Hermione sighed and nodded, allowing him to get them safely down from the tree. By the time they reached the edge of the wood the sun was fully up and mist was floating around the field before them like fine silvery gauze. Hermione decided not to ask questions when Severus created a bubble around them before they moved through it.

They managed to get to the centre of the field before Severus grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the ground. "Now what?" she whispered, caught between aggravation at being unceremoniously hauled onto her bottom and the edginess created mainly by the sneaking around. He shushed her with a waved hand, tilted his head to the side and listened carefully to something she couldn't hear and then whispered. "Stay here. I'll be back in a moment." Before she could voice the objection that sprung to her lips he was off, moving swiftly through the tall grass at a crouch, leaving Hermione to shake her head and heave an exasperated sigh.

The sound of grass swishing quickly faded, Hermione sat herself down properly, wondering vaguely what was going on and what she'd got herself into. She was brought out of her reverie by the sound of various spells being flung about a short way away. As carefully as she could, she got back onto her feet, staying low. She listened carefully, picking out Severus' voice amongst the shouts. She guessed that including Severus the fight that had broken out was between six or seven people. She thought she heard at least one woman but the rest were men. The pauses between spells were shortening. Hermione took a breathe and, reminding herself that the land they were on belonged to Severus' friends, stood up straight to look around. She couldn't see anything but the flashes of light shimmering through the air from various points.

She made a quick count of the points spells were originating from, five people, including Severus. She was all ready to go to his aid when she realised that he could be at any one of those points. She could try to find him, risking running into the others, which was something he'd obviously been trying to avoid (not that she had any idea why), or she could join in from here and risk hitting him. Second thoughts, better to stay out of it and stay here like he'd told her. She crouched down again, realising that she'd probably just given her own position away. Not a second after this thought had crossed her mind than a hand gripped her elbow from behind and pulled her back up to standing. Hermione shrieked and, without thinking, slammed the back of her fist into the face at her shoulder, followed quickly by the now released elbow hard into the stomach and then a kick to the crotch as she turned. She realised she'd probably over reacted when found herself standing over the crumpled figure of a man who's age she place at around eighty, though he was in no way feeble, she did still feel guilty that she'd clearly broken his nose. She was just about to apologise and help him up when Severus appeared. He looked a little concerned, but when he saw the man on the floor he gave a short laugh.

"Well done, Hermione. One down, three to go. Are you okay, Bert?" He helped the older man up and they embraced like brothers.

"You've certainly picked a good one there, my boy." Bert replied, extending a hand to Hermione, "A pleasure to be assaulted by you, Madame Snape."

"I didn't, I mean, I'm sorry, I just thought –" Hermione stammered, trying to apologise and defend herself at the same time, a dark blush rising up her cheeks.

"It's quite alright, my dear, I should have known that any woman married to Severus would certainly be capable of defending herself, I just imagined you might use your wand a little more." He gave her a smile and used his own to fix his nose and vanish the blood. "Come on, Severus, the others will know that you've got me by now, they won't make it an easy capture."

This said both men disappeared in opposite directions into the tall grass, leaving Hermione staring after them and, definitely not for the first time, wondering what on earth was going on. Moments later the firing of spells resumed along with various shouts. Hermione gave up trying to work out where all the spells were coming from and focused on trying to stay still and quiet and listen out for anyone who might be approaching. Silence fell like a blanket, it seemed the battle, game, what ever it was, was over and Hermione tentatively peeked over the top of the grass. At first she couldn't see anything, but she soon became aware of a group of distant figures standing under a mammoth oak tree on the far side of the meadow, one of whom appeared to be dangling from the lower branches by several ropes.

Feeling a little nervous, she began to make her way over to the group, squinting to try and identify her husband amongst the group. She finally spotted him sitting on a large rock on the edge of the gathering, casually pointing his wand at the figure in the tree. She could also pick out Bert who was standing to Severus' left, between two unknown other figures, and chatting animatedly, possible recounting for them the tale of how the fourth person ended up suspended from the oak, judging by the way he gestured towards the, she decided, young woman, who struggled fruitlessly against her bonds.

It wasn't long before she was close enough to hear what was being said. Bert was indeed giving his two companions a blow by blow account of what had happened.

"-thought she'd got him, you know, wand out of his hand and down on the ground as he was. But just as she was about to mark him, he sort of twitched his foot and sent her sprawling!" he told them gleefully, "and then of course he was doing his flying thing and next thing you know he had his wand back and the tree just sort of grabbed her. Then we found Mike,"

"I was behind the tree waiting to ambush him when he turned to look for you, Joyce," the young man who stood next to Bert interjected.

"Yeah, but you have to get up earlier than that to catch the lad out, eh, Mike?"

"Absolutely, I was exposed, wandless and marked before I even knew I'd been spotted."

"do you concede, Rose?" Severus asked the woman in the tree.

"NEVER!" she shouted, continuing to struggle. It became apparent that she was trying to reach her wand, which hung from another rope in front of her, and as she reached for it, Severus was tauntingly moving it out of her reach.

"Oh Rosalyn," Joyce, who looked to be around the same age as Bert, scolded lightly, "just say it, then we can all go in and get some breakfast. Besides, I do believe this is Severus' young lady coming towards us."

As soon as Joyce said this, Severus rose to his feet and extended a hand to Hermione. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, she nodded, and he gave her a very small smile before leading her over to the group, "Hermione, this is Michael,"

"Mike," Interrupted the younger man, pushing his blonde hair out of his face.

"and Bert, you've already met, and Joyce, Bert's Sister." Hermione shook hands with each of them in turn.

"Severus, you should have said, we would have skipped all this if we'd known." Joyce exclaimed as she held on to Hermione's outstretched hand. Hermione gave Severus a puzzled look as she had been told that Severus' friends were expecting both of them, not just him. What Joyce said next caused her even more confusion. "you shouldn't be making her go gallivanting all around the country in her condition."

Severus gave a small chuckle and then explained, for Hermione's benefit. "Joyce has a very rare talent: she can sense souls. This makes her invaluable when you're hiding out, because she can tell when someone is trying to sneak up on you as soon as they get within her zone, and it also makes her the worlds most effective pregnancy test."

Hermione smiled uncertainly to cover her surprise. Severus was already moving on. "and this stubborn young woman, "he said, with only fondness in his voice, gesturing towards the woman in the tree "is Rose."

"Pleased to meet you." Rose said cordially, still struggling against the thick robes that wound around her. Hermione turned to offer her hand to the suspended woman and fund herself momentarily stunned. The woman hanging before her had soft, pale skin, long red hair and piercing green eyes, she could have been Lily Potter's long lost sister.

"Had enough yet?" Severus asked her over Hermione's shoulder.

"Why? Is this all you got?" she returned, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

"It always ends like this." Mike told her conspiratorially, "last time he set fire to her before she admitted defeat, oh, don't worry, " he added at Hermione's horrified look, "she was never in an real danger. Severus wouldn't have let it get out of control. Apparently he got the idea from one of his students, who set fire to him at a quidditch match when she thought he was cursing her friend." Hermione felt the sight blush rising to her cheeks.

"I didn't want it to come to this, Rose, but you've asked for it." Severus told her, he shook his head slowly, took a deep breath and then, to Hermione's surprise, fired off a tickling charm at Rose's feet.

It took mere seconds before Rose was squirming for other reasons than attempting to reach her wand, laughing so much tears were gathering in her eyes, "alright," she finally gasped, "alright, you win, I yield!"

Severus cancelled the charm and the tree carefully lowered her down by the ropes. As soon as her feet touched the floor the ropes themselves vanished and Rose came over to hug Severus. Hermione was again surprised by how relaxed and at ease Severus seemed.

-#X#-

The walk back to the house took less time than Hermione had imagined it would, and all the way Severus, Rose, Mike, Bert and Joyce chatted about times gone by, reminiscing fondly off many adventures it seemed they had shared. Hermione listened closely, trying to figure out the connection between this group (it transpired that Rose was Bert and Joyce's niece, and Mike was her husband.) and Severus.

It wasn't until they were sat down around the kitchen table eating a cooked breakfast, which Joyce had whipped up with a few quick flicks of her wand at various kitchen cupboards and equipment., that Hermione finally asked the question, "So how did you all come to meet Severus? You all seem so close, there's obviously a lot of history."

"he hasn't told you? Severus, I am appalled!" Rose swatted playfully at Severus, who dodged gracefully. "it's a very memorable story. We met when Severus saved my life."

Hermione said "how?" in absolute wonder just as Severus chocked on his coffee and protested "I did no such thing!"

"Shut up Severus, you did to." Rose settled back in her chair and proceeded to tell the tale, "so, it was way back during the first rising of the Dark Lord and Severus was what, twenty? Twenty-one maybe, just, 'cause I was only about eighteen myself. I was meant to be running surveillance on a group of death eaters we suspected were involved in plans to take over the ministry. They'd set up their base in this little run down cottage out in the middle of the moors, so there's no cover or anything for miles. Any way, long story short, I had a clutz moment and ended up alerting them to my presence, and managed to snap my wand in the process. So I ran. There were half a dozen of them and only one of me, and I'm running and running, and they're firing all these curses everywhere. Just when I think it's all over I spot this tree, it's all on it's own but it's huge and I think, if I can just climb up there, I'll be home and free, because I've got a portkey in my pocket that's going to activate in about five minutes.

" I ran for this tree, and they ran after me. They were gaining on me pretty well and still firing off curses by the bucket load, but some how I managed to reach the tree relatively unscathed. I jump up and try to grab the lowest branch but now they've caught up and one of them shot a hex at this branch to break it off, a few of the others had a similar idea, and they start using their wands to chop at this tree as well as fire on me. I'm thinking, there's no way out now, no way can I manage to stay alive long enough for the portkey to activate with all of them surrounding me. I'd just about given up all hopes when this guy," she waved her arm at Severus, who Hermione noticed was beginning to turn a little pink just around his neck, "launches himself out of the tree above us, where he must have been waiting to ambush them anyway or something, he shoves me out of the way of a curse that was headed straight for me and then casts a shield charm over the both of us. Good timing too because just as the shield goes up a branch hits it, rebounds off and takes out four of the Death Eaters, so they're all on the ground knocked out, and the other two can't seem to figure out what's happened. Before I've even fully realised what's going on, Severus' is back on his feet, he's removed the shield charm and he's managed to use some sort of gluing charm to stick the two remaining death eaters together. In the confusion they both start trying to curse us again and manage to get each other. So that's two dead four knocked out. Severus walks over to the four under the branch and, without waking any of them, uses a bit of what I like to call his 'mental magic' to make them forget us and remember there being some sort of accident to account for the two dead guys. It was fab, but I can see he's a little panicked, maybe he thinks I'm going to attack him for saving my life or something, I don't know that I ever bothered asking. He's also covered in scratches from when he jumped out the tree, so I invited him back here to get cleaned up, Aunt Joyce is a whiz with healing stuff. And the rest as they say is history."

"Not quite history, babe," Michael said. "I seem to recall I didn't meet Severus until many years later when he knocked me out in a bar fight." that caught Hermione's interest as well, and she glanced at Severus, who was now definitely turning red around the ears and seemed to be sinking slightly lower in his chair.

"It wasn't a bar fight." he muttered.

"It was a fight, and it was in a bar, Severus, therefore, it was a bar fight." Mike told him, paying no attention to his friend's growing embarrassment. "that was back after the first fall, and I was working for the Ministry, undercover, you understand, in this dingy little bar out in the middle of nowhere, the place where all the supporters of the Dark Lord used to meet up and have a bit of a gossip, you know, who's been caught, who's been granted a reprieve, rumours about the Dark Lord coming back. I was the year above Severus at Hogwarts, and I knew who he was the second him and Malfoy sauntered in. right pair they were, all dressed in black and whispering amongst themselves, a handful of others following along behind giving anyone who took notice the evil eye. Anyway, my orders were to make friendly with this crowd and try to get them to confess that they had been Death Eaters. I was all rigged up with surveillance charms, you know, trackers and recorders and all that. So I served their drinks and tried to kind of worm my way into their conversation. It didn't work."

"A hippogriff would have been less obvious" Severus commented dryly.

"yes, alright. I was a little inexperienced, and a bit over zealous. Any way long story short, Malfoy cornered me in the stock cellar later on and threatened to do some fairly horrid things to me if I didn't tell him who I was working for, and I, well, I was young and cocky, and I told him where he could shove his questions, at which point, Severus decided to rescue me and punched me 'for my insolence', leaving me out cold in the stock cellar. I don'[t think he realised just how hard he'd hit me, though, coz when I woke up he was standing over me looking really worried. Malfoy was gone home or somewhere and Severus had snook back to give me a few lessons in subtlety. He brought me back here, again so Joyce could practice her fixing up skills. Which, coincidentally, is also how I met Rose." he kissed his wife lightly on the nose, and she giggled and blushed. " so I owe him on two counts."

-#X#-

The day went quickly for Hermione, and soon she found herself back at home, sitting on the bed just as she had at 6 o'clock this morning. Reviewing the day she realised that she had learned much about her husband today. She had learned that he was a truly loyal friend, and that with people he trusted he could relax and joke around just like herself, Harry and Ron so frequently did. She realised that she truly wanted him to be that comfortable with her friends, and that she wanted to spend more time with his. There was just one thing that niggled at the back of her mind. When she lay down and closed her eyes a familiar face swam before her eyes, a familiar face with long curling red hair, and bright, pretty green eyes. With it came a box of photos that had emerged from Severus most private domain not so long ago. She had to ask, a part of her had to know, though she dreaded the answer.

"Severus?" she questioned curiously.

"Hmm?" Half asleep, Severus pulled her a little closer.

"Can I ask you something? Something about Rose?"

Severus' whole body stiffened, and Hermione's dread came to the for front of her mind. Why did he tense up if not because he didn't want to talk about it, and why would he not want to talk if he had nothing to hide? "It's no true." he whispered, sounding very awake now.

That threw her a little, "what's not?"

"What she said earlier. It's not true. I didn't save her life. Well, I suppose I sort of did, but what I'm saying is, it wasn't the huge act of heroism she makes out it was."

"I think saving someone's life is pretty heroic however it happens." She responded, rolling over to face him.

"No, you don't understand. The whole thing was an accident. I was saving my own skin as usual. And she just-" He broke off, making a slightly exasperated sound in the back of his throat.

"Do you want to tell me what actually happened?" She asked after a moment of silence.

The silence grew longer, and Hermione thought perhaps he had gone back to sleep, but then he said softly. "it was just after I turned spy. I was on my way to report to Dumbledore, so I'd broken off from the main group to find somewhere inconspicuous to apparate to the meeting point. I never told Rose, there weren't just a few Death Eaters gathering there, it was all of them, if they'd caught her, they'd have brought her straight before The Dark Lord and... it doesn't bear thinking about now. Any way, I was walking along and I heard a group running behind me, firing off curses. I thought they'd seen me leave, convinced they knew where I was going. So I hid. I apparated into the only tree for miles. I thought they'd think I'd already gone, that they'd just go back. You don't raise suspicions of treachery with the Dark Lord unless you can back up those claims and hand him the traitor, not unless you want to take the punishment yourself, or you're Bella Lestrange. Then Rose ran up, she didn't see me, and neither did the group that was chasing her. It was stupid now, but I only saw her from above and I," he sighed and then admitted quietly, "I thought it was Lily. I leant forward to get an aim at the best shot of the Death Eater group, but I lost my footing. I managed to grab the branch with my arms, stop myself from falling, but by then I couldn't aim with my wand, because if I'd let go to do it, I'd land right in the middle of them." he paused, determinedly not looking at her.

"It wasn't long before one of their stray curses broke the branch I was hanging from. I put up the shield charm to stop the branch hitting me, just a reflex action. It was pure coincidence that I'd landed pretty much on top of Rose so it covered her as well. Then I shot the first spell that came into mind at the two Death Eaters the branch hadn't taken out, that didn't work either. It was supposed to bind them with ropes and gag them so I could make them forget they'd seen me. As Rose said, they both panicked, and managed to eliminate each other. But then I had to come up with a reason they were dead. I altered the memories of the ones under the branch, made them think there was a storm, got them thinking they'd been chasing a muggle or something."

"and then she took you back to Joyce, because you saved her life." Hermione added.

"yes, but I didn't mean to"

"no, but you did save her life, Severus, and whether it was intended or not, whether you thought she was someone else or not, whether you were also trying to save yourself or not, that's still pretty heroic in my book. Besides, you can't tell me that punching Mike was an accident as well."

"No. I punched Mike because he was an egotistical imbecile with a death wish."

Hermione snorted with laughter the seriousness of the situation almost forgotten. They settled down once again, and it was only then that Hermione realised she hadn't actually asked her question.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"You know you said that you thought Rose was Lily? When you were up in the tree?"

"You want to know if I loved her like I loved Lily, don't you?" he all but sighed.

"yes, but at the same time no." She confessed.

"when I first met Rose, Lily was still alive, not speaking to me, nor even wanting to look at me if we crossed in the street. By the time Lily was gone, I had learned that Rose and Lily, while they are alike in many ways are two very different people."

"So you've never... you know?"

Severus gave a short laugh. "We did, once, shortly after Lily's death. But never again after that, and now, well, it would be like sleeping with my sister."

Hermione smiled, she didn't really have anything to worry about after all. The past was the past, and she felt silly for even bringing it up. Had she not already likened Severus and Rose's relationship to her own with Harry and Ron? A comfortable silence stretched between them, until finally Hermione pushed herself up onto one elbow to kiss Severus on the lips gently. "thank you." she whispered, settling back down against him.

"For what?" he sounded bemused in a half asleep kind of way.

"For being open and honest with me."

-#X#-

Monday morning found Hermione pushing porridge around her bowl, staring in a preocupied way straight through Severus, who sat opposite her.

"Hermione? Hermione!"

"sorry, what did you say?" she blinked out of her reverie.

"I asked what time your appointment is?"

"oh, ten. But we'll need to leave in a moment, because the buses are only once an hour and the next one wont get us there in time.

"Just remind me, why do we need to get the _bus_?"

"You make it sound like I've suggested we ride all the way on giant slugs."

"I just don't see why we can't apparate. It would be quicker, safer and cleaner."

"I told you, I want to go to the muggle ultrasound appointment in the muggle way. It's not good to be completely dependent on magic for everything. Besides, I want this baby to grow up knowing the muggle way of life as well as the wizarding way."

"Fine, I'll teach him or her to ride a bike, and play football, and wash up without a wand. Can we just apparate to the appointment?"

"No. Come on, time to go."

Five minutes later they stood at the bus stop with a little old woman with her shopping bag on wheels and a young man with a nose ring and a green Mohawk, who was eyeing Severus' long black coat, black trousers and shirt and longish hair as if wondering if they'd met at some rock concert. Hermione just smiled politely at him and took Severus' hand. When the bus finally came, Severus politely allowed the elderly woman to go on ahead of them, offering to lift her trolley for her. They took their seats (after Severus had surveyed the black marker pen scrawls and muddy splotches with obvious mingled disgust and disdain), and Hermione commented that the bus was only a few minutes late so they should make it in plenty of time.

A few stops later the youth that had been at the bus stop made his way back past them to get off, tossing at Severus as he did so "don't you think you're a bit old to be a Emo, mate?"

"What did he just call me?" Severus asked when the youth was off the bus, causing Hermione to giggle quietly, telling him not to worry about it.

After what seemed an eternity to Severus, it was their turn to get off. Hermione pressed the bell (which Severus refused to touch), and they stepped out onto the pavement. The Hospital was clearly visible at the end of the road, and they had plenty of time, So Hermione suggested that perhaps they could have a cup of tea in the small café across the street.

They sat down at a table with their cups, Hermione glancing about at the pictures on the walls, Severus sat resolutely looking at him coffee. After a few moments of quiet Hermione asked, "Can you play football?"

"You do think of some random things." Severus sipped his coffee.

"you said earlier that you would teach him or her to play football. Can you play football?"

"Supposing they haven't changed the rules since I was eight or nine, I don't see why not."

Hermione sipped her tea, smiling slightly. "I never would have put you down as the footballing type."

"hmm. I imagine there are many things about me that would surprise you." He responded cryptically.

"Like what?" She asked, immediately curious.

"Come on, it's almost time for your appointment." He got up and held out her jacket for her.

"Like what?" she asked again as she shrugged her jacket on and they left the café. Severus just led her down the road towards the hospital.

Sitting in the waiting room of the ultrasound department, Severus picked up an ancient gardening magazine, determinedly ignoring Hermione's repeated questions. Eventually she fell silent. Hermione looked around at the other couples, each pair whispering in a happy, excited way with each other, all holding hands. She glanced at Severus, hidden behind the magazine, sitting so still he might have been a statue. One by one the couples were called and as they departed, new couples began to arrive. Hermione gave a small sigh. Whether it was the movement of her shoulders brushing against his or the tiniest noise, Severus lowered the publication. He too looked around at the other couples. After a second or two, he inclined his head towards hers and asked, "do you wish we were more like them?"

"what do you mean?"

"Do you wish me to be more... demonstrative?"

"I don't know." She told her hands. "Sometimes." she admitted quietly.

"it doesn't come naturally to me." he told her honestly, but he took her hand in his. "what do you imagine they are talking about?"

"Ginny and Harry used to talk incessantly about what they thought the baby would look like, which gender they thought it was going to be and what they were going to call it."

Severus was saved from answering by the ultrasound technician calling Hermione's name. Severus released her hand to allow her to stand up. Hermione took a few steps then turned back, "don't you want to come in?"

"I didn't imagine I'd be allowed.." He told her.

"Why ever not? I didn't make this baby on my own, did I?" She blushed as soon as the words were out of her mouth, aware of the technician grinning at her.

Severus smiled, though, and said, "no, you didn't."

"just lay on the table and roll your top up a little." The technician Instructed once the door was closed. Once Hermione had complied, she added apologetically, "this may be a little cold. She squeezed a little clear gel onto Hermione's belly, then spread it around with the hand held part of the ultrasound equipment. "Right, so I'm just going to have a quick look at baby, do some quick measuring so I can work out how far along you are, check everything's okay, and then I'll turn the screen round so you can have a look." Hermione nodded that this was fine by her, and Severus resumed holding her hand.

The little hand held transducer was rolled all over Hermione's stomach, and it only took a few moments before the technician turned the monitor screen around so they could see the fuzzy image in various shades of grey.

"So, here is your baby's heartbeat," the technician pointed to a small fluttering f grey and white in the rough centre of the image, "and the head here, "she circled the head, "spine" she followed the delicate white line, "and you can see two feet here, and an arm under here." she pointed each out. "baby is laying on it's side facing your back, Mrs Snape, the other arm is tucked out the way in front of baby. It's almost sucking it's thumb." she smiled, "I'd say you're about 16 weeks and 3 days, which puts you're due date at 22nd June. Do you have any questions?"

"Can you tell what gender the baby is?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself.

"Not at this stage, but we will be able to at your next scan. Mr Snape?" Severus shook his head, still looking intently at the image on the screen. "in that case, I'll just print an copy of this image off for you, and then your free to go." she tapped a button on her keyboard and then handed Hermione a few pieces of tissue to wipe the gel off with. The printer wired into life, and she collected the print out, put it into an envelope and handed it, with her pregnancy notes, to Hermione. "good luck, congratulations, and I'll see you in about four weeks." She smiled as they left the room.

-#X#-

Later that evening, Hermione came down the stairs from a long soak in the bath to find Severus sitting on the sofa looking at the print out image from the scan.

"It makes it all so real, doesn't it?" She said quietly.

He nodded, "It looks so tiny, just like a little tiny person."

"That's because it is a little tiny person. Our little tiny person." She sank down on the sofa beside him, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in to his side.

"22nd of June doesn't seem like very long."

"No, it doesn't, and there's so much to do."

"What if we're not ready?"

"We will be. We'll have to be."

They sat in comfortable silence after that, both contemplating their own thoughts, both looking at the image of their child, and trying to imagine what it would be like to be a parent.

**AN: Just a warning, July is a very busy month in my little bubble of the world, and it is unfortunately followed up by six weeks of no school or nursery, therefore updates are unlikely until approximately 17th September. I will do my best to get some writing done, but I can't make any promises, so I once again beg your forgiveness and your patience...Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora.**


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